


Lies Cover Up the Truth

by LerDan



Series: Rights and Wrongs [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern: No Powers, Don't take credit on it, First Kiss, Fluff and Angst, Gay Steve Rogers, Heavy make out, High School, I love these two omg, Idiots in Love, Like lots of pining, M/M, Mention of a song, Mutual Pining, Not my song obviously, Open Ending, Sarah and Joseph Rogers are alive, Steve/OMC is a brief moment, X-Men characters make appearances in the first chapter, mentions of being bullied
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-30
Updated: 2017-02-12
Packaged: 2018-09-20 22:26:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 45,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9518666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LerDan/pseuds/LerDan
Summary: I lie, to keep you safe from the monsters of my life.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys, I'm back with a new Stucky. It's going to be a short one, but with 2 parts. I'm done with the first part now, which holds only 3 chapters. I'm not sure how long the sequel is going to be, but it's WIP right now.  
> The 3rd chapter of this story is currently being proof-read by my hubby. Any sort of typos are mine to blame.  
> Constructive criticism is always welcome, if you're nice with it.
> 
> \--  
> As you can see from the tags, Bucky here is homeless. Now, I have 0 idea of what it's like being homeless, but this is a work of fiction, and I've bent over some unwritten rules to go with my story. If you've a problem with how I've written his side of the story, then you don't have to read it, I guess :)  
> And whoever decides to stay and read it, then thank you!  
> I don't really have any warnings...  
> So, with that, I wish you good luck on this little journey with our boys.

**Part 1**

 

**\----------------------------------STEVE**

 

“These are really good, ma.”

Sarah Rogers smiled at her son as he stuffed his face with eggs. “Sunny side up, a bit fluffy on the sides. Just like you love.”

“Just like I love,” Steve sighed happily as he cleaned up his plate in a record time. It was early in the morning; birds were chirping right out of their window, the sun was high up in the sky. He was having breakfast with his mom in their new townhouse. The fact that his mom had time to actually make breakfast and eat some with him spoke volumes. She was a doctor, and her shift didn't start until the afternoon.

“So first day of school.”

“ _High_  school.”

“In the new city!”

“Hardly a new one since we've already lived here,” he replied, taking a sip from his tea.

“When you were just a tiny baby.”

“When I still had my father around, you mean? I was hardly a baby at the time.”

“How are you feeling?” she ignored his jabs like a pro, just like she has done for the last couple of years since the whole... thing happened. Since his father left for another busty lady from his firm. Steve was only seven at the time.

Now he was eighteen and about to start his high school year at yet another new school.

“Well, I feel okay, I guess. I mean, what, we come back here so I can finish school in the same school that you guys attended before?”

“Steve.”

“No, mom, really. I'm okay. I mean we are back in the city where my good for nothing father lives.”

“He cares about you,” she said, knowing that it wouldn't change anything about how his son felt about the whole ordeal.

“A paycheck a month, with four zeroes at the end in my bank account, hardly gives him the best dad award,” replied Steve with an eye roll. He got up from the table and took his and Sarah's plates to the washing machine.

“He calls-”

“Twice. In a year.” 

“Steve...”

“Mom, listen,” Steve walked back to her chair and squat down beside her. He took her hand in his and said, “We came here not only because you want me to finish school in the same one that you've graduated from, but you also got this amazing job at the hospital. We couldn't let you not have this job. We both know it.”

Sarah sighed, “I just wish it was in another place, you know? This must be hard for you.”

“It is. As long as I don't stumble on him, I'm okay. Just because I have some daddy issues, that doesn't mean that you should put your life on hold for me.”

“I just want you to be happy.”

“I'm the happiest when I see  _you_  happy.”

Sarah sighed again, and gave Steve a small smile. She cupped his cheek with her free hand, and said, “What did I do to deserve such a beautiful son like you?”

“Married a douche-bag, sadly.”

Sarah smiled at her son, fully, and shook her head. Steve grinned back and then stood up. “I better get going. I don't want to get stuck in traffic and be late to school.”

“Are you taking your car?”

“Might as well, yeah.”

“Okay,” Sarah said standing up. She pulled him in for a hug. Steve hugged her right back, enjoying the fact that they were close to one another enough to be this affectionate. Steve didn't know what he'd do if it was otherwise. They pulled back and Steve walked to the hall, where his bag was sitting on the table by the stairs. He grabbed it, along with his keys. He opened the front door but before he went out, he turned around and asked, “Will you be home for dinner?”

“I'm hoping for it. I don't know what I'm gonna have to do at work today, yet. If not, order in some pizza.”

“I will, doc.”

“Silly. Go. Before you'll be late.”

Steve smiled at her and left the house. It was a nice, sunny day out, with a slight breeze in the air. His keys jingled in his hand as he made his way to where his car was parked. Even though he didn't want anything to do with the man himself, his car was a gift from his father when he turned sixteen. A beautiful _Chrysler_ _200_ , which Steve chose himself. Good thing that his father emailed him with the request. No visitation required. It was easier this way. And Steve guessed that his father wanted to at least be a part of his life in any way he could.

He knew his father would buy any type of car he'd wish to have, because he was filthy rich. But Steve wasn't greedy, so he picked that one. And it was in their driveway the very next day. At the time they lived in California. Steve missed it.

When Sarah saw the car, she didn't say anything. She was probably glad that Steve was willing to open up to his father. Even if it was tiny, tiny bit. Steve hated the man. But he needed the car, so... it was kind of a win-win situation. Both parents were satisfied with his effort. So here he was driving it to school in the big city of Brooklyn.

The school in itself was big and posh looking, but people from different backgrounds attended it. It wasn't only for rich people. Steve appreciated that a lot. After all, he was just a simple guy who happened to have parents who were known by a lot of people. His father, Joseph Rogers, was a lawyer with his own firm that were scattered around in different States. While Sarah was a famous neurosurgeon at the hospital. She was known to take the most challenging surgeries of all times, and getting through them unscathed.

Steve would sometimes wish that his life would've been different, when it came to socializing with people his age, but alas...

He parked his car in the only available spot by the far side of the building. He cut the engine off and sat back a bit, observing the students. There were all types of people; he could pin point the people who had better lives than the others. It used to irritate him at first, but the ability to know just by a look was great. Since he'd know how to speak to them individually.

New places always meant new beginnings, right? It meant that he could be anything and anyone he wanted. It didn't matter that he had a history of beating up a lot of bullies in the other schools. Right? He just hated bullies. So it was his duty to take care of them. It just was.

Taking a deep calming breath, he grabbed his bag from the passenger sit and got out of the car. He locked it and made his way to the registration office. Thankfully he knew where it was so he didn't have to fumble his way around the school; looking like a lost puppy, and awkwardly asking everyone where he should go next. He walked in and was greeted by a pretty girl with blonde hair, who was already smiling at him. She shuffled some papers in front of her and stood up straight.

“Can I help you?”

“Yeah, hi,” Steve dropped his bag on the floor by his feet.

“Hello,” she said. She had a nice voice.

“I'm the new transfer student? From California?”

“Mhmm, yes. I have you registered here in the computer. Your name?”

“Steve Grant Rogers.”

She clicked down his name and didn't bat an eye at his name. She didn't seem to recognize his last name, or simply didn't care. Which was a nice change, really. “Yep. There you are. Okay,” she printed out some papers, and rummaged around the desk for a spare pen. Grabbing a black pen, she found the places for him to sign and left small marks on them. “Sign on the marked places, please.” Steve did as he was told. Once done he handed them back to her. She nodded and said, “Okay. Thank you. Your papers here say you were captain of the football team at your former high school?”

“Yeah, I was. I am.” Why was he stumbling over his words?

She eyed him for a moment and Steve shuffled on his feet. He knew what he looked like; he was built as a rock. A great addition to the team, really. He knew his worth. And he loved the sport. While his dad hated it, his mom was his biggest fan. She'd always make sure to get his schedules in a way that she'd be free for his games. He also loved seeing her cheer for him like nobody's business. In those moments, she looked so young and pure and happy, that Steve was going to sign up for it as long as he was able to.

“Would you like to sign up for ours too?”

“Sure.”

“Great. Sign up here then,” and he did.

“Thank you.”

“I should be thanking you. Honestly, we need a great Captain. The one that we have is just... let's just say, we could do better than him.”

“That bad, huh?” Steve asked with a small smile. He liked this girl.

“You have no idea,” she said with an eye roll and a chuckle. “I'm Gwen, by the way.”

“Nice to meet you.”

“Likewise,” she said with a nod. “Here is your schedule, and the pass so your teacher would know why you're a bit late to the class. Here's also the map of the school. It's easy to go around, but still, better keep this close. If you'll get confused, asked the others. Most of them are great, but others are, eh. And the key to your lock.”

“The map is fine,” Steve said with a smile. He didn't know why, but he added, “Hufflepuffs are particularly good finders.”

“Potterhead?”

“Uh...yeah.”

“Oh god, you and my boyfriend are gonna have a grand time,” she said with a smile.

“Why?”

“Huge fan. Really. And he's also the art teacher here. I think you've signed up for his classes.”

“Oh, that's great. Not a fan?”

“I read the books. They were interesting.”

Steve laughed and grabbed the papers from the desk, “Got it. Well, I better go.” He bent down and grabbed his bag, shouldering it he said over his shoulder. “I'll see you around, Gwen.”

“You bet.”

Steve left the office and looked down at his syllabus. He had math right now, class 34C. He quickly scanned the map and made his way across the long hallways. The inside was light, the walls were all in off white colors, and the floors were in gray color. The lockers were in red color on either side of the walls and as he made his way, he noted the numbers on them. He looked down to look at his locker’s number on his keys. 106. It wasn't even on this side of the hallway. He guessed it was a bit to the middle. He'd find it later.

Steve quickly found the classroom. The door was closed and he could hear the teacher's voice coming through. Steve took another breath and pushed the door open. As soon as he did, everyone stopped moving and talking, and looked up at him.

The teacher had a set of glasses perched on his nose and he had a book in his hand. He looked at Steve with a raised eyebrow and said, “Yes?”

“Hi. I'm Steve. The new student?”

“Ah, yes. Mr. Rogers,” the classroom erupted into a whispered conversation. Ah, there it was. The reaction he was waiting for. Steve tried not to blush as he walked inside, gripping the strap of his bag tighter.

“Call me Steve. Mr. Rogers is my father, sir.”

“' _Sir_ '? I'm impressed. Maybe these goons will learn a thing or two from you. Last time I've been called 'sir' I was in the bank,” the teacher gave him a twitch of a smile, just as the class giggled. Before Steve could say anything, he continued, “I'm Mr. Coulson. I teach math, as you know already. I don't like people who don't say if they haven't gotten what's happening on the board, and pretended that they get it just because some obnoxious kid said they do. Grab an available seat.”

And just like that he started to teach again. Steve placed the pass on the desk and looked around the classroom. There was an available seat in the last raw, so he quickly made his way there.

Steve dropped his bag by his chair and leaned forward to get his notebook and textbook out. Once settled he looked around himself and his eyes landed on the guy that was sitting next to him. He had long hair, which was obscuring half of his face, he had his arms crossed on the table and his head was resting on top of them. He mostly looked bored, but at closer inspection, he looked tired. He had bags under his eyes, and his eyes were dull. His lips were chapped and his skin looked wrinkled. He looked a lot older than the other kids, but somehow, he seemed young. He had a black, long-sleeved shirt that was a bit loose on him, and his jeans had seen better days. Steve didn't even want to comment on his sneakers.

Steve's eyes traveled back up to his face only to find the guy looking at him. His eyes still looked dull, but... the color of his eyes were a startling shade of blue, mixed up with green and silver? Steve wasn't sure what his eyes color were, but he found that he liked them very much.

“I'm Steve,” he blurted out in a whisper. The guy glared at him, but didn't say anything. He turned his head back to face the front. And if Steve wasn't staring like an idiot, he wouldn't notice the way the guy tried to make him look as small as he could.

Steve frowned at his behavior, but didn't say anything. He shook his head and turned back to listening to the class. Only...his mind kept drifting off to the guy sitting next to him. There was just something that didn't sit quiet well with him. And if something bothered Steve, he'd be damned if he didn't try to get to the bottom of it.

It was one of his irritating traits that caused him more harm than good, but he couldn't stop. He just couldn't.

He took another breath and turned to talk to the guy, again, but then the bell rang and the guy was out of the classroom like a man on fire. The others didn't even spare him a glance. So it was a normal thing for him to do.

Sighing, he gathered his things and slowly walked out of the classroom. He looked down at his paper to re-check what his locker's number was and set off to that direction. On his way there, he checked his schedule to see that he had chemistry next. Sweet.

He was busy looking down at his paper that he didn't see where he was going. So that's why he didn't see the body standing close to one of the lockers as he collided with it. The other person let out a soft hiss of  _'shit'_  just as Steve grabbed on to their arm to prevent their fall. Once standing up Steve's apology died down on his lips as he saw who it was.

It was the same guy from the class.

“I-I'm sorry. I wasn't watching where I was going,” Steve stuttered out. The guy glared at him, and then glared down at Steve's hand still on his arm. Steve released him slowly and sighed. “I'm sorry.”

The guy sighed roughly through his nose and turned around to take care of his bag. Through his hair, Steve noticed that it was greasy, he saw that the guy's jaw was clenched. Steve wanted to apologize again, but instead he just sighed and looked at the number right next to the guy's locker. He inwardly groaned. It was 106. Right next to 107; the guy's locker.

Steve grabbed his keys from his pants and unlocked it. The guy stiffened when Steve started to get his books out of his bag and place them all in the locker, only grabbing the essentials for his next class. Steve was starting to get irritated by referring to the guy as such, so he sighed and said, “Look, I don't know what your problem is, but in my head I keep calling you the guy. And I'm guessing we share a class now, so it'll be totally great if I know what to call you.”

The guy stopped what he was doing and he was so tense, that Steve could feel it under his own skin. It seemed like he wasn't breathing at all. Steve was just about to ask him if he was okay, when a really rough voice said, “Bucky.”

“Huh?”  _yes. Very attractive, Steve._

“Name's Bucky.”

“Oh. Oh! That's...great.”

“No.”

“Huh?” _Really??_

“It's not great. It's weird.”

“What's weird?”

The guy-  _Bucky -_ sighed and slammed the door shut. He turned around and glared at him through the shadow of his hair. “My name's weird. You should say that. Instead of great.” And then he left. Steve quickly shoved his book in his bag and slammed his own door shut, fast walked to keep up with Bucky's long strides.

“Why?” he breathed out, shouldering his bag.

“Because that's what everyone says.”

“I'm not everyone.”

“You will be.”

And just like that he left.

Steve stood there and sighed. He wanted to go after him so bad, but he knew it'd be futile. And if he didn't hurry, he'd be late for his class. He could try tomorrow. With that in mind, he looked down at his map and the paper, and walked the short distance to his class.

Mr. Banner was a nervous looking guy, who was a genius and a nerd, and a geek, and had a very small, but warm smile. He was patient, too patient sometimes with his class, but it wasn't frustrating to watch. Steve thought that Banner and his mom would go on on well together. His mom didn't date anymore, which worried Steve a lot. So he entertained the thought of setting Mr. Banner and mom together. It was a silly thought to entertain, but that only made the class to run faster than he thought.

When the bell rang, he left the class to his other one, a dark skin toned, muscular guy, with a 1000 watts smile, introduced himself to Steve as Sam Wilson. They shook hands and started their way to their next class. Sam was a nice guy and he made Steve laugh and not feel awkward at all. When they settled down in their seats, Steve found out that Sam could be his friend here. He was easy going, which Steve admired the most in people. And he was also in the school's football team. He was a wide receiver.

The class was just about to start when  _Bucky_ showed up. His head down and his shoulders hunched down as he made his way to the back of the class to sit at the far side. He didn't even look up. That made Steve feel a bit disappointed and angry. He didn't understand what was about Bucky that made Steve want to know more about him. So he found himself asking Sam about him.

“Hey, do you know who that guy is? Bucky?”

“Bucky? Oh yeah, he's just this weirdo that's around the school. Doesn't have friends. Doesn't talk to anyone. Tries to stay out of trouble but our Captain of the team is a douche and always ends up ruffling Bucky's feathers.”

“Why?”

“Rumlow's like that. He likes to play dirty.”

Steve frowned. “Why is he on the team then? I thought only good students can get onto the team.”

At this, Sam let out a loud snort of laughter. “Right. I don't know how it's like in Cali, man. But in here, he's the Captain. So we all must bow low to him.”

“I say it's bullshit,” a sandy haired boy sitting at the front raw from them said. “He's a dick.”

“I thought your hearings were impaired, Barton.”

“Barton?” asked Steve confused

“Clint Barton,” said Clint, turning around and smirking at Steve. “On the team too. Same position as this douche. And,” he turned to look at Sam, “I have hearing aids on, you doofus. I can hear you just fine.”

“He knows about everyone, everything,” Sam added to Steve as a side information.

“Not  _everything._  That guy,” he pointed at Bucky's direction. Steve turned his head to look at him; he was reading a book, hair still obscuring his face, “is still a mystery to me. Although he does have anger issues.”

“Oh yeah,” Sam chuckled shaking his head.

“What happened?” Steve frowned at them, wanting to know.

“He had this big ass fight at the school grounds cos some dude made some offhand comment on his clothes. I swear that dude couldn't walk for the next couple of weeks after that.”

“Shit.”

“Oh yeah,” said Clint with a gleeful smile. “It was awesome. But there's something about him that no one knows. And I honestly can't wait to unfold what's behind him.”

Something about that didn't sit well with Steve so he found himself saying a firm, “No.”

Both boys swiveled around to stare at him. “Eh?”

“You're going to leave him alone,” Steve said with determination. He looked right into Clint's eyes.

Clint squinted at him, his lips turning up in another smirk, and then he said, “Alright. He's all yours, Rogers.”

And then the class started before Steve could say another word.

Biology was taught by a nervous looking guy named Mr. McCoy. He looked young, and handsome. And he had no clue on how to talk with the ladies. It was adorable. His class went on fairly well, even if he'd sometimes stutter with his lectures, he still had everyone's attention directed at him. He had an easy aura to him, and halfway through the class, his stuttering almost subsided and by the end of the class he was also smiling.

The bell rang and Bucky shoot out of his desk once again, as if he was a man on fire. Again.

Steve looked at the way he went and there was something tugging at his heart. He shoved his books and notebooks in his bag and left the class as fast as he could. In hopes of catching up with Bucky, but he was nowhere in sight. Shoulders sagging in defeat, Sam and Clint joined him outside and asked him to sit with them for lunch. Steve nodded and they made their way to the cafeteria.

When they got in, Steve right away knew where the team's table was; it was right smack in the middle of the cafeteria. It was a bit weird, seeing all the students looking at them as if they were gods. But really, they were just some regular kids having lunch. Even if their table was at the center.

They went to get their trays loaded with food. Steve made sure to grab a bottle of water, and an apple. When they got to their table, “Yo! New kid!” Clint hollered at the others and they stopped talking and looked at Steve. He swallowed, hard, and nodded at them, with a tight smile.

“What's your name?” said one of the guys. He looked bulkier than the others. He had a smirk on his face that didn't quiet reach his eyes. His hair was cut in military style. And he acted as if he was the boss of everything. Steve hated him on spot.

“Rogers,” for some reason he didn't feel like giving out his name to this guy. The Captain in him purred in satisfaction.

His smirk grew, “Rumlow.” And they held an eye contact. It was interrupted when Sam clapped him on the shoulder and squeezed it in a tight grip. A warning to let it go. Whatever  _it_  was.

As he sat down, placing his tray in front of him and starting on his salad, the others started to introduce themselves. He quickly found himself being fond of Pietro. A silver haired guy who was the fastest player on the team. He looked smug when the others introduced him as such. Steve smiled at him. They were discussing their schedule on when they could start their training when Steve's eyes caught the lone figure of one Bucky Barnes; sitting all alone at the farthest side of the cafeteria.

With a frown he noticed that Bucky didn't have much food on his tray. And he was eating very, very slowly, in small bites. Steve's frown deepened when Bucky looked around himself and grabbed one of the closed containers and placed it in his bag. A water bottle followed suit.

What was he doing?

As if he could hear Steve thinking that, Bucky looked up and their eyes met. A shiver ran down his spine as he read the emotions flash through Bucky's eyes; raw panic, fear, worry. Snapping his eyes away from Steve's, he pushed his chair off from the table quickly, grabbed his bag and fled the cafeteria, without looking back. Steve wanted to go after him and see what the deal was, but then he got distracted as a bunch of girls made their way to them.

“Hey fellas,” one of the girls, a red haired beauty, said in a sultry voice. Her eyes landed on Steve and gave him a smirk. Steve nodded his greeting, with a small smile. “Natasha.”

“Steve,” he said.

“This is my team,” she said, nodding at the other girls who were now sitting by the closest table to them. “Your cheerleaders.”

“Pleasure to meet you all,” he said loud enough for them to hear.

“Hi, Steve,” they all chorused and then broke down into giggles.

Steve smiled at their reaction and shook his head at that. He looked up at Natasha and saw that there was something in her expression that made him fidget in his seat. She quirked up an eyebrow at him and he tilted his head to the side. After a moment, she nodded once and turned her back to him, sitting down at the table next to them.

Whatever went through her head was a mystery to Steve, but he hoped that he could, someday, find out what she was thinking.

“There's a party on a Saturday. You all should come,” Rumlow said in his voice that Steve wanted to cover his ears and punch him in the face repeatedly at the same time.

“Where?” asked Pietro. He had a slight accent that suited his image.

“At Eric's place.”

“He knows how to party.”

“Knows how to throw one too.”

“Are you in, Rogers?” Rumlow asked him.

Steve looked up from his bottle of water, which he somehow found fascinating to stare at, and nodded his agreement. “Sure. Just let me know what time and where, and I'll be there.”

“Awesome.”

Steve smiled at them politely and turned back to look down at his bottle. After a moment he remembered that he'd forgotten to take his art books from his locker. He excused himself from the table and made his way to his locker. He found himself feeling a bit disappointed when he saw that 107 wasn't occupied by its owner. He probably did scare Bucky away by his stares.

It was a ridiculous feeling, this disappointment over a strange guy who didn't want to have anything with him. One that he didn't understand. For now.

Shaking his head, he looked down at his watch and saw that lunch had almost come to an end. So he slowly made his way to the art classroom. There weren't too many of them in the classroom, which he liked very much. The only person that he knew was Natasha. She was busy getting her own supplies out of her bag, that she didn't notice Steve making his way to her.

“Can I sit here?” he asked. She looked up abruptly from her bag. It took her a second to recognize his face, so she gave him a small smile and a nod. Steve sat beside her and took out his own supplies and the book.

“I think you're an idiot for even joining our school's team.”

“Sorry?” he asked, puzzled, by her admission.

“You should've waited a bit. We want to get Rumlow kicked out of the team.”

“Why?”

She raised her eyebrows at him. “Really?”

“Uhm...”

“He is a bully. The worst in the school.”

“Has he ever...?” He didn't finish the question.

“Me? Pfft, really Rogers,” she rolled her eyes at him and Steve realized how ridiculous his sounded. She was one of the girls that didn't get to be played with. If they valued their lives. That was the impression that Steve got from her just by looking at her, anyway. And he was probably right to assume so.

“Well, I'm just saying.”

She stared at him with a blank expression. After a moment she shook her head and looked down at her hand and then up to his face. “Right. Anyway. We want to get rid of him because he's just... He always picks on people that don't sit well with him.”

“Such as?” Steve pressed. For some reason he wanted to know if Rumlow, ever, raised his hands on Bucky, or anyone else. He didn't want to say his name. But for some reason, Natasha seemed to know who he was asking about.

“He doesn't do anything but walk around the school and mind his own business. But to Rumlow, it's like a personal offense. He doesn't like the kid, so he wants him bullied to...submission.”

“That makes no sense.”

“I know. He just likes to rule them all. It's stupid. We're in high school now.”

“And what does Bucky do?”

“He lets him. But not a lot. He... I don't know how to explain it. I'm guessing someday he gave up on the whole thing.”

“Why?”

Natasha shrugged and opened her sketchbook. She was working on a raven, the feathers were delicate, the colors extraordinary.

“It's good,” he said in a whisper as he observed it.

“I love drawing feathers. And hair. They have to be precise and delicate. I love taking my time with them. What do you draw?”

“Anything, really.”

“Portraits?”

“Definitely.”

“Awesome. You can draw me someday.”

Steve smiled at that and then their teacher came in. He had a large coffee cup in his hand and way too many papers. He was tall, with tuft of brunette hair on top of his head. He had a nice smile and lithe figure. Steve understood why Gwen was with Peter Parker; he was adorable.

“Class in session. Now shut up and listen,” he raised his voice to be heard by them. The others giggled at his stern voice and Steve relaxed. It seemed like he was one of those easy going people that everyone seemed to love. “Okay! So this year's project is going to be about, wait for it, Superheroes!”

The others groaned while Steve found himself smiling. He loved drawing comic style. He couldn't wait to start. There was an image in his head already, but he couldn't place a face on the body. He might end up with a mask or something until he'd come up with a face for the hero.

“I know, I know. Last year it was Elves-”

“-And anything related to Lord of the Rings!”

“And that too,” Parker said, smiling at one of the students. He clapped his hands together and looked like an overexcited puppy. “Shall we begin?”

The class went on fairly well. Parker had a great eye and he didn't like fixing their mistakes. He would observe from a distance and comment here and there. In a way that it'd make them feel like he was just making a comment on the piece, rather than tell them bluntly what they did wrong.

“I know this whole class, but I don't know you,” said Parker as he sat beside Steve and observed as Steve tried to make a shape of the flower arrangements that they were currently working on. They were supposed to make them look like it came out of the comic book itself. He placed his pencil and brush down and looked at Parker.

“What would you like to know, Mr. Parker?”

“Call me Peter. Mr. Parker makes me feel way too old. Which I'm not,” he said with a flip of his hand. “What's your drug?”

“Uhm, well, I like drawing people. Sketch. Paint. Doesn't matter. So long I've the image in my head, then I'll be fine.”

“Learned it somewhere?”

“We used to live in Cali,” said Steve with a small shrug. “Used to take classes there. Got somewhat obsessed.”

“Nice.”

Steve smiled and nodded. He did think so too.

“Drop some of your bests in the next class. I'd like to see how advanced you are, yeah?” Peter clapped him on the shoulder and went around the classroom one more time.

It was fairly quiet and everyone loved being in here. Since they could be as free as they could. Well, within the boundaries.

By the end of the day, Steve was ready to go home and get started on his homework. He was making his way down the parking lot to where his car was, when there was someone calling his name out. Keys dangling from his fingers, he turned around and spotted Sam running up to him, Clint trailing behind him.

“Hey, man.”

“Hey. What's up?”

“Listen, I know you're still new to the town and would like to chill for a while, but there's this party on a Friday.”

“What about the one that Rumlow mentioned?” Steve frowned at Sam. He got a shrug in reply and a toothy smile.

“Rumlow will live if we go to this one,” he said. “It's at Scott's house. We don't share any class with him, but he is cool. So, you in?”

“Sure,” Steve nodded, shouldering his bag. “I'll come. Text me the details?”

Sam got his phone out and added Steve's number. They parted ways after that, Clint waving at Steve and yelled, “Don't forget tomorrow's practice.”

Steve waved back and got to his car. He unlocked the door and was just about to get in when he heard a clacking sound from the distance. He quickly turned around and saw that it was Bucky, staring down at a bicycle on the ground. There was a bulky looking boy in front of him laughing at Bucky's stony face. Bucky's hands were balled up in fists and he looked livid. Without giving much thought about it, Steve was about to make his way to them, but then Bucky squat down and took his bicycle, turned away from the other boy and started to walk away. His bag full and straining down, firmly secured on his back.

Steve sighed and went back to his car. He shook his head as he sat before his wheel. There was something about Bucky that was drawing Steve in. He didn't know what it was but he just did. It was frustrating and yet, exhilarating. He didn't have this kind of infatuation back in Cali. Sure, there had been some boys here and there that got Steve's attention and he did end up with them in school's locker room, more than once, but this was different.

This felt different. He couldn't place his finger on it, but it was. He should look into this in a week, or two.

And maybe he could ask his mom for some sort of guidance...

Yeah, no.

Steve shook his head again and chuckled at himself. He got the car out of the parking lot and sped down the road. When he was about to reach for the second crossroad, from where he'd take a right to get closer to his town, he saw the familiar shape of his  _infatuation_. Walking on the sidewalk, head down, dragging his bicycle by his side. Steve slowed down his car a bit and got the window down.

“Hey!” he yelled out and Bucky visibly flinched at his voice. “Shit!” Steve hit the break on his car just as Bucky turned to look at him with wide eyes, his hair obscuring his face.

“What the fuck?” Bucky whispered at him.

“I'm sorry. I'm sorry! I didn't mean to yell so loud,” Steve apologized quickly.

“You're making the traffic worse,” Bucky said. He turned away from Steve and continued his way down, and to the left.

Steve thought about it just for a second, and then thought;  _fuck it._  He turned his car to left, and probably broke 2 or 3 rules by doing so, but he didn't care. He parked his car at the first available spot, got out and jogged over to where Bucky was still walking.

“Hey,” he breathed out again as he stopped right in front of Bucky.

Bucky stopped and glared at him. Steve tried to smile, but his lips and face muscles weren't having any of it. “You said it,” he gritted out. “Twice. Good for you.” He shoulder-passed Steve and continued to trudge down the road. Steve shook himself out of his mini-shock and fast walked to get in pace with Bucky. “The fuck you want?”

“Let me give you a ride.”

“I'm not going home.”

“Then wherever you're going now. Let me take you there.”

“Why?”

“Because your bicycle isn't taking you there.”

“I'm gonna be late.”

“Then let me take you.”

“Leave me alone.”

“I've a car that's capable of taking you to wherever you're going in no time.”

Bucky stopped suddenly and he turned to look at Steve. Well, more like at Steve's throat, since his eyes seemed to refuse to make an eye contact. “Let me be clear. Again. Leave me the fuck alone. I can get by on my own.” And just like that he turned away from Steve and jogged down the road. His too full bag bouncing up and down.

Steve stood there, staring at his retreating back, wanting to run after him, and yet...

He sighed, shoulders slumping in defeat, he made his way back to his car. It was frustrating; Steve decided once again as he sat in his car, hands on the wheel, staring at the dashboard. Not only Bucky was rude to Steve, and to anyone who tried to attempt any sort of conversation with him, but he was also very attractive while he shot down a person, after person. Well, he shot down one person that Steve knew of. And that person happened to be him. Hell, Steve didn't even know the guy and he already wanted to give him a ride. No wonder Bucky acted like that. They were basically strangers to each other. But despite all that, Steve still wanted to be his friend. It looked like, Bucky was in desperate need of one too.

 

**\--------------------**

Later that night his mom messaged him telling him that she wouldn't be able to come home early since she got caught up in work. It was fine by Steve. He was used to this anyway. So Steve ordered cheese pizza with extra cheese. As much as he was a health freak, he was also a cheese lover.

Once his pizza was delivered, he got up the stairs to his bedroom and grabbed his school work. Made his way down the stairs and to the living room, where he made a nest on the couch and dropped his books on the coffee table. He grabbed a warm slice of pizza and happily munched on it as he started on his homework. By the time he was done, he ate half of his pizza and went through 2 bottles of water, and there was only one homework left to be done, and then it was bedtime for him.

When Steve was done with his pizza and his homework, he cleaned up after himself. Shutting off all the lights, and making sure that the door was securely closed, he made his way up to his bedroom. He dropped his books on the desk and dropped face down on his bed. He groaned as he was engulfed by the softness of it and wiggled a bit to get comfy.

He closed his eyes and sighed, and waited for sleep to consume him. After several minutes of waiting for sleep, he decided that it wasn't going to come in easily for him.

He let out a noise of frustration and flipped on his back. Staring up at the ceiling he couldn't help but think how much different this place felt like compared to California. And yet, it also felt like home. The bed was different since he needed a new mattress.

His mom wanted to have a fresh start in a 'new' place, she said. So Steve agreed. They took whatever they deemed to be important to them and they left their whole lives behind and started a new one here. It's been almost a week since the start and it felt like they'd been here for a month. A slow moving month that Steve wanted to go back in time and have at least another month of living in Cali. He had friends. He had a life there. He had his bedroom that had just the right amount of sun in the morning. Whereas here, he got his sun, but not too much. He needed more. He missed his bed. He missed the ocean...

Steve sighed sadly. He turned to his side and looked out of the window of his bedroom. There was a new moon up in the sky and Steve rolled out of bed and walked to the window. He opened it wide, letting the cold air in his bedroom. He inhaled deeply and sat at the windowsill, and stared up at the moon. It looked beautiful.

He used to do this in Cali a lot. He'd go to the ocean, which was 2 blocks away from their house. He'd sit in the sand, or lay down, and would look up at the sky and count the stars that were visible. He'd try to enjoy the coldness that came with the moon. It was always seemed so fascinating for him to look at.

He doesn't know how long he sat there, just staring up, but then the lights on the street dimmed down, and he started to feel heavy with sleep. So he let the window open and went back to bed. He laid back down and sighed, let the heaviness of the day, and the longing for the days in California to lull him into dreamless sleep.

 

**\-------------------------------------**

“One more time and then you can hit the showers,” their coach yelled into the speakerphone in his thick Russian accent.

Steve was sweating like there was no tomorrow. He felt alive and at home here. He loved playing football and he was pretty damn good at it. Their coach, Mr. Rasputin, drilled them like nobody's business. His coach in Cali had nothing on this one. He loved him instantly.

His first practice with his teammates was a success. They embarrassed him instantly, and made him feel like he was with them from day one. Aside from Rumlow being a bitch and a dick to everyone, he had a great practice. He didn't take Rumlow's misplaced comments close to his heart, since Sam and Clint were by him and they'd make faces and jokes about how Rumlow would yell at them to listen to him. More than once, Steve cracked up laughing because Clint's imitations of Rumlow spot on.

The cheerleaders were practicing in the distance. Natasha's commanding voice could be heard loud and clear throughout the clearing. And by the sounds of it, she wasn't letting them go off easy. But they were obeying her, which was nice of the ladies.

The bleachers were scattered with about seven to ten people, all of whom had their school books out. Steve's eyes sought out a certain long-haired boy, but he wasn't there. Of course he wasn't there. Why should he be? Steve had tried to talk to Bucky, but the guy didn't even acknowledge his existence. Hell, he didn't even look like he was present at all. His eyes looked duller, and he looked more tired. In their biology class, Bucky even fell asleep, but thankfully, Mr. McCoy didn't tell him off about it.

Mr. Rasputin barked at them to go and take a shower, since they were done now. Steve heaved out a loud sigh as he grabbed his bag and made his way back to the locker rooms, with his team mates.

“Aw man, I'm actually dead,” Clint moaned, chugging down another bottle of water. “I'm actually dead. Like, I'm a walking dead or something, I'm so dead.”

“Will you fucking shut up dude? You're not the only one who ran like hell around the ground,” Sam grumbled lifting his hand to flip Clint at the top of his head. “Rasputin looked like a man on mission.”

“Yes, a mission to kill us all,” Clint said with another moan. “I think he actually succeeded.”

“I happen to like it,” Steve admitted with a shrug. Sam and Clint stopped walking. And it was actually comical to see their identical expressions of horror.

“The fuck is wrong with you?” asked Clint.

“Are you insane?” said Sam.

“What?” replied Steve, looking at them and shrugging, “I never had a coach that was like him. And he's great.”

“Yeah, he is. If you want to die!”

“Oh stop bitching. You almost sound like Rumlow,” Steve said with an eye roll. He turned and walked inside the school. They both followed him in, and Steve could still hear them grumbling to themselves about how insane Steve was because he liked the practice.

The shower felt cold, but warm enough to relax their aching muscles. Steve did a quick work on getting the sweat off of him. He wrapped his towel around his waist and made his way to his locker to get changed, ignoring the others; laughing and making jokes about each other.

He dried up and got his clothes on. Placing his gear back in his big sports bag, he bid the boys goodbye and made his way up to the parking lot. He looked around the lot before getting inside his car. There was still no sign of Bucky.

Sighing, Steve placed his sports bag in the trunk and got inside his car. He started the car and drove out of the lot. He wanted to go to Starbucks for coffee, so he took a left, instead of right and drove down the streets to the nearest Starbucks.

Once there, he texted his mom to find out if she wanted for him to bring her coffee from here, but she declined, saying that she was in a surgery, and that she loved him and to drive safe. Steve smiled at the text and rolled his eyes at his mom's concern. He grabbed his decaf with low fat milk, tipped the barista, and got out. He took the lid off and blew the hot steam off for a bit and looked around the street. He was about to walk to his car when he saw Bucky walking down the street. Well, it wasn't much of a walk then a fast paced walk. It looked like he was in a hurry. And he didn't have his bike with him.

With a pang, Steve realized that his bike had been ruined by that big bad bully. If Steve could just know who that person was, and get his hands on him...

Bucky looked stressed, and his face was glistening with sweat. His bag looked too full again and his back looked like it was straining down from the heaviness. Steve frowned, and closing the lid on his cup, he quickly got to his car, and drove after Bucky. Good thing there weren't any traffic lights here, because the last thing he needed was to be stopped by that. He drove down a bit and saw Bucky still fast walking. He got the passenger's side window down and said, in a soft tone of voice, “Hey.”

Bucky looked his way and clenched his jaw. “No,” he growled and started to walk faster.

“Wha-Hey! Wait!” Steve put his feet down a bit harder on the gas and followed Bucky. “Bucky, let me get you there, come on.”

“No. Thanks.”

 _At least he said thanks..._  “Come on. You look like you're hurrying-”

“-And you're slowing me down-”

“-so just let me take you there and then I'll be out of your mop of hair.”

“Fuck off,” Bucky growled again, more forcefully than before and Steve hit the break in shock.

He watched as Bucky started to run now, his bag bouncing on his back. It looked way too heavy. Steve was sure that their books weren't too heavy. They definitely didn't look like they'd all make a bag look that big if they were all crammed in together.

By the time Steve made up his mind to drive after Bucky, again, he was nowhere to be found. Steve sighed and banged his hand on the wheel. “Damn it,” he growled and sighed. He slammed his foot on the gas and sped down the road, back to his town, and to his street.

He was going to try and lay low for a while. Stay away from Bucky, and observe from the distance. Get to know him from afar, and bit by bit get close again. Steve knew that he could get forceful with his advances on others, so this time, he was going to take another approach.

He just hoped he'd succeed.

  

**\----------------------------------**

Steve adjusted the collar of his navy blue shirt again as he navigated his broad shoulders through the crowd. And it was crowded. The two bedroom apartment that belonged to Scott and his family, was suffocating with people. There were people who were hanging in the dingy looking corridors of the building. The music was loud enough for them to dance to, or converse with each other without shouting. Scott looked laid back and chill, with a pleasant smile on his face. He shook Steve's hand when Sam introduced them, shaking a bit too vigorously and a tad bit longer than it was appropriate. But he looked smitten and called Steve “specimen” and that cracked Steve up a bit.

And then he got introduced to more people that Steve didn't quiet remember the names of, but it was okay. He'd learn them in time. He had some sort of drink in his hand that he didn't really get the name of, but he was also sure that it had alcohol in it. He took it out of courtesy than anything. Since he was driving and didn't want to risk getting caught.

He made his way to the kitchen and stopped short as he saw  _Bucky_ sitting on the counter. He had one slice of pizza in his hand, while he was chewing on another one. Steve shrugged away the thought of it being weird and slowly made his way there. He was wearing the same black long-sleeved shirt that Steve had seen him in more than once. Steve was guilty of owning at least three identical gray t-shirts, so he wasn't one to judge people for their choice of clothes.

Bucky was preparing on to chew on the second slice of pizza, when Steve slid to him and placed his cup on the counter. Bucky stopped and stared at him from the corner of his eye, mouth stopping at mid-chew. Steve took a deep breath and breathed out a “hey”. Bucky continued to stare at him.

“Cool party, huh?” he said. Was he really trying to make a small talk here? Probably, yes.

It was terrible.

Bucky still didn't answer. At least he resumed his chewing. Steve fiddled with his fingers, his eyes observing the crowd. He took another deep breath and said, “I don't know how to talk to you.”

He saw Bucky frown at his pizza. He bit into it again, but didn't acknowledge Steve's words. Steve continued, “I honestly don't know why, but I feel like we should be friends.” Still no reply. “I mean, the others are great, but I don't know. I want to be your friend. I feel like you're in a desperate need of one too.”

Bucky hopped down from the counter and Steve straightened. Bucky wiped his mouth on a napkin, dropped it on the counter and turned around to look at Steve. His face was unreadable.

“No,” he said. Well, he growled, was a more accurate way to put it. Since it seemed like he didn't know how to talk to anyone.

“No?” Steve echoed. Bucky clenched his jaw and brushed past him, and to the small balcony the apartment had. Steve quickly followed him out. Bucky was leaning over the railing, his hair flipping around because of the wind. Steve shut the door behind him and stood beside him. “Why not?”

Bucky let out an exaggerated sigh and said, “You don't want to.”

“If I didn't I wouldn't even talk to you.”

“Just leave me alone.”

“Why don't you want me to be your friend?”

“Don't analyze why I don't want to be your, or anyone else's friend.”

“But why not?”

“Just-”

“I said leave me alone. Please. Jesus. Why are you so stubborn and annoying? Just leave me the fuck alone.”

Somehow Bucky had turned to look at him, and somehow they ended up in each other’s space. Because their faces were too close for comfort, but neither of them were making a move to step back. Distinctly, Steve noticed that they were close in height, and Bucky's eyes were the color of the moon. Or something less cheesy. He'd analyze this later.

“Why are you pushing me away?” said Steve, his voice above a whisper. He felt the need to keep his voice down, because if he spoke louder, he'd shatter the moment. Whatever this moment was.

Bucky seemed to struggle with himself. His face pinched and he looked into Steve's eyes. His eyes dipped down to Steve's lips and then up to Steve's eyes. Bucky licked his lower lip and looked away. He shrugged and opened his mouth to speak, but then slammed it shut again. He shook his head and sighed. To Steve, he looked frustrated.

He looked scared. Steve took a steadying breath, and asked, tentatively. “Are you scared of letting people in?”

Bucky looked at Steve, and looked away quickly. That seemed to answer his question. The realization was comforting, because he understood what was happening in Bucky's mind now, and yet...

“You've been hurt. Before,” Steve observed. He was going in blind here. He wasn't even sure if he was being right.

But then Bucky nodded and Steve's insides seem to crumble. Bucky had been hurt before. He didn't trust anyone. He didn't feel safe to allow anyone, specifically  _Steve,_ in. He didn't want to get hurt once again. This only made Steve to want to be with Bucky even more. He wanted to show Bucky that not everyone were like the person that made Bucky lose all hope in finding friendship with other people.

Steve ran a hand through his hair, scratched the back of head and said, “Look, I'm going to talk to you, whether you think it's wise of me to do, or not. But I'm going to acknowledge your existence, and I'm going to talk to you at school. I want you to be my friend.”

“But why?” Bucky asked automatically, his eyes now staring at Steve's throat.

Steve dipped his knees down a bit to catch Bucky's eyes. “Because I feel like there's a person behind this small demeanor that you've created for you. I want to know the real you.”

“You won't like it.”

“Let me decide if I will or not.”

“I don't like people being in my business.”

“I'll be in the part of the business that you'll feel comfortable in sharing with me.”

“I mean it, Steve,” he said, his eyes looking up and into Steve's. Steve's breath caught from the intensity of the stare. He straightened his back and legs, and pursed his lips. Bucky licked his lips again and said, “I'm not fond of people.”

“I gathered as much,” said Steve lightly. They were standing too close still. Steve didn't feel like moving.

Bucky didn't smile, but his eyes had a flick of amusement to them. Steve counted that as a win. “I'm horrible at conversations.”

“That's not a problem, since I happen to be great at it.”

“You're gonna end up hurt.”

“Are you planning on hurting me?”

Bucky hesitated and then shook his head. “I...”

“What is it?” asked Steve, his fingers itching to lift up and touch Bucky's forehead, to smooth out the frown.

Bucky shook his head again and bit down on his lower lip. “You can tell me anything, Bucky,” Steve said soothingly.

“Anything?”

“Yes.”

“You'll run for the hills.”

“Try me.”

Bucky let out a noise that Steve thought sounded like a chuckle. Steve wanted to make Bucky laugh harder than that. Bucky flicked his hair over his ear and shook his head. “It's okay. Maybe someday.”

“Maybe someday,” Steve agreed, nodding. He let a smile grace his lips, not fighting it back anymore. He couldn't help but feel giddy about the successful first conversation they had. “This is great.”

Bucky rolled his eyes at him and turned away from him. He leaned over the railing, staring down on the street below. It was a quiet street, not much cars driving by. Steve let his eyes wander over Bucky's back. He looked lean, but Steve could be wrong. Steve shook his head and mimicked Bucky's pose. Their shoulders brushed against one another and Steve found comfort from the small touch.

“So.”

“So?” Bucky asked back, turning his head to look at Steve.

Steve couldn't help but smile at him. Bucky rolled his eyes and looked forward. “Tell me something about you.”

“Wouldn't you like to know?” Bucky said seriously, but there was a hint of teasing in his tone of voice. So Steve didn't take his reply seriously.

“C'mon. Tell me something. Like, what's your full name? I'm assuming your real name isn't Bucky.”

“No.”

“Care to elaborate?”

“Are you going to look me up on google? Because I don't have anything on the internet.”

“Everyone has something on the internet.”

Bucky snorted, “Definitely not me.”

“I call bullshit, but okay.”

“James Buchanan Barnes.”

“Bless you.”

“Shut up, punk.”

“Buchanan?”

Bucky shrugged and flicked up an eyebrow. “Rogers?”

“That.”

Bucky groaned and his lips wavered on the verge of a smile. Steve's heart skipped a bit. “You're terrible.”

“I know.”

“How can you live with yourself?”

“I keep myself awake at night,” replied Steve seriously, with an exasperated sigh.

“Okay, stop with the terrible jokes,” Bucky groaned out and shook his head.

“No, seriously. I just lay down there, think about my jokes and how to make them sound so terrible.”

“Oh god, stop.”

Steve laughed at Bucky's expression. He looked like he was going to crack a smile, a real one, but he was reserved about it. As if his face didn't know how smiling worked. Steve felt determined to see the full blown smile that could someday make itself known on Bucky's face.

They quieted down after that. The wind picked up a bit and Steve closed his eyes. He loved feeling the air on his face. It almost felt like home. He was, technically, back home, but it still wasn't  _home_. Maybe having this friendship work for them, maybe then this place would be warmer for him?

“Steve?” Bucky said. This was the second time Bucky used his name, and it made Steve's heart to skip a beat. Weird feeling, wasn't it?

“Yeah?”

“I'm...” he looked nervous. Steve swallowed hard, but didn't push or prod. He waited for Bucky to calm down enough to say what he had to say. “I'm not a good person. I don't think you should even consider being seen talking me.”

“Are you saying you don't enjoy my company?”

“I do,” Bucky said. He ran his hand over through his hair. It was trembling. “I just... I'm not a good person. I don't... I don't have anything. To offer.”

Steve frowned down at his hands and waited for more, but nothing came. “What do you mean?” he asked. Steve genuinely had no idea what was Bucky trying to say.

Bucky let out a frustrated sigh and covered his mouth with his hand. He looked nervous again. He dropped his hand and said, “I don't want to give too much away, but I don't want you to expect...things from me.”

“Such as?”

“I can't say anything more,” Bucky mumbled, flicking his eyes Steve's way and then staring down at his hands.

“I know you don't feel like you can't trust me, but you should,” Steve said with a small shrug.

“It ain't that easy.”

“I know it's not, but...” Steve shrugged again. “I am a patient man. And whenever you feel like it, you can talk to me and share whatever you want. But please, for the love of everything, don't try to push me away, because it won't happen.”

“Why do you want to be friends with someone who doesn't give you anything other than a full name?”

“Because I believe in people being more than a shell of a person they created for themselves.”

“You have way too much trust in people,” Bucky grumbled down at his hands.

Steve gave a small smile and shrugged a shoulder, “I know. It got me into trouble more than once, but I guess I don't learn from my own mistakes.”

“You've been hurt before?”

Steve nodded, but didn't elaborate. Instead he said, “I trust that there is always a good reason as to why a person is the way they are, you know?”

“What if it's bad?” said Bucky. “What if  _I'm_  bad?”

“That's the beauty of people, isn't it?” replied Steve with a soft smile on his face. He pushed away from the railing and Bucky did the same. They stared at each other; Bucky nervously biting on his lower lip. “You may never know what you'll find behind anyone.”

 

**\-----------------------------------------------------------**

The weekend passed by fairly quickly. Sarah had the weekend off and they binge watched Gilmore Girls. He would miss his mum from time to time, but when Sarah would have a day off, she'd make sure that they'd spend their times together. It wasn't like they could see each other whenever they wanted. His mom had to work, and her schedules were as crazy as they'd come. And adding the fact that she was a head neurosurgeon, which meant that she had close to no free time at all.

Monday morning, Steve drove his car to school, yawning more than five times. He parked his car at the far end again, and grabbed his bag from the passenger's seat. Locking the car door after him, he slowly made his way up to the school. Once inside, he walked to his locker to place his books there.

He grabbed his chemistry book and placed it in his bag. He was about to leave when Bucky showed up. Steve's hand faltered on his locker door and it made a too loud sound as it closed. Bucky didn't even notice Steve standing there as he opened his locker and started to get his own books in and out. His bag was still full with stuff that Steve couldn't see. He was too focused on trying to see Bucky's face, under the curtain of greasy hair.

Steve hesitated for just a moment, and then asked in a low voice, “You okay?”

Bucky didn't seem to register his voice at first, but then he gave a slow, jerky nod. He seemed lethargic. His hand trembled a bit and he almost dropped his bag to the floor, but Steve reached out to grab it before it hit the floor. It was way too heavy. Even Steve strained under the pressure. “Oh wow, do you have rocks in here or what?” he joked and gave a low chuckle.

But then Bucky snatched it away from Steve's hand and slammed the door of his locker shut. Steve's smile left his face in an instant. Bucky turned and glared at Steve, hard. There wasn't any warmness to it, not even the small sparkle that Steve saw at the party. Alarm bells went off in Steve's mind and he took a small step forward.

“What's wrong?”

Bucky clenched his jaw and shook his head.

“Did someone hurt you?”

Another shake.

“Did anything happen?”

Shake.

“You can talk to me, Bucky.”

A twist on his face, and it broke Steve. Bucky was too young to look like that; haunted and tired, and angry.

“I know it's hard to trust someone,” Steve said, keeping his voice low, and between them. “But, know that whenever you're ready to, you can always count on me, okay?”

Bucky continued to look at Steve as if he was going to explode. Steve had no idea what was happening to Bucky and it was taking everything in Steve's power to not try and pry for more, but he had to be patient and take things slow, just as he told himself he would. “You gotta use your words here, Bucky, yeah?”

Bucky let out a low voice at the back of his throat. Steve let out a small sigh. He wanted to reach out, and place his hand on Bucky's shoulder, but he didn't want to make things weird between them. They weren't there yet. Instead, he took a small step forward and said, “I'll be here, around the school, come find me whenever you feel like talking.”

He didn't wait for Bucky to reply. He shrugged on his bag and walked down the hall to his class.

For the rest of the day, Bucky avoided him at all costs.

 

 

 

**\---------------------------------------------**

 

“I was starving,” said Sarah, as she chewed her burger. Steve smiled at his mom's expression as she ate her burger. Once a week they’d have a burger. Tonight, she had to stay overnight at the hospital, so she'd asked Steve to bring her burgers. So now, they were having dinner in her office. She had her coat off, and was sitting up on the sofa she had in her office while Steve sat on an armchair. They were comfy.

“I didn't know how many you wanted so I grabbed you two.”

“Too damn right you did,” she mumbled, slurping on her coke. “So. Tell me, how's school?”

Steve swallowed his own share and nodded, “It's good. Really. I made the team, as you already know. And it's kinda cool to be part of it.”

“And I'm proud of you,” she said with a smile.

“Thanks,” replied Steve. “Classes are getting harder, but it's nothing that I can't handle.”

“That's great, hon,” she wiped her mouth and grabbed the other one. “Have you made any friends?”

Steve shrugged and said, “There are some guys from the team that I hang with from time to time.”

There must've been something in his voice, because Sarah put down her burger and looked at Steve. “I feel like there's a ‘but’ after that.”

“There is... kind of,” Steve mumbled and nodded. “There's this guy.”

“Ooh! Are you seeing someone? Oh that's so great!” she squeaked and bounced up and down in her seat.

Steve smiled at her enthusiasm and shook his head, “No, ma. He's not my... he's not. I don't have anyone.”

“Oh?” she sounded disappointed. She picked up her burger and resumed her eating.

“Yeah. I just... there's this guy. He seems nice, if he lets you  _in,_ you know? He's a loner, and doesn't have friends.”

“You can be his friend.”

“I know, and I want to, but he's just so complicated. Sometimes, I feel like he's keeping a secret. It's like he doesn't want anyone to find out about it.”

“Hmm... Have you tried talking to him about it?”

“I have,” Steve nodded. “But he doesn't open up.”

“Well, sweetie, if you want him to be your friend, you just have to wait and see if  _he_  wants to be yours as well first. But we also know that you're not a patient man-”

“-Nope-”

“-And that's why if you really want him to be part of your life, you just have to give him his space and time. If he feels safe with you, then he'll talk,” she said with a small shrug and a smile.

Steve was quiet for a moment as he thought about what his mother said, and then, “But what if he'll tell me something that I won't like or can't handle in my life? What then?”

“When the right time comes, you'll know what to do,” Sarah replied with a gentle smile. Heartwarming at the concerned face of his son, she placed her free hand on his forearm and squeezed it gently. “You're going to be okay, honey. You just have to be patient. And besides, I haven't seen you give up a challenge in your life before. Why should you stop now?”

Steve stared at her as she said it offhandedly, knowing that it'll make Steve do just that. Look at this as a challenge. And he could already feel it happening deep inside of him. He was ready for it.

After they were done with their meal, Steve drove back home, with a hug and a promise from his mom that they'd do something on the weekend. They hadn't had a normal day just the two of them since they moved here since she had to work all the time.

He was two blocks away from his house when, from the corner of his eye, he noticed a homeless person at the corner of one of the buildings. The person was huddled up against a wall, wearing a tattered looking and well-worn hoodie. Sneakers dirty and pants looking torn, the person looked miserable. It was a tiny bit chilly outside tonight and Steve shook his head at the thought of being outside, instead of being inside, where it was definitely warmer. He drove up to his house, cut off the engine, grabbed his school bag and walked up the small steps.

Once inside, he dropped his bag by the door, toed off his shoes and walked to the kitchen. He opened the refrigerator and tried to find the freshly made potato soup and lasagna that his mom made this afternoon for him to eat tonight. But since they had burgers for dinner, Steve thought he could place them in a better use. Someone who'd actually wouldn't mind having a warm meal.

Steve cut off a generous piece of lasagna, and placed it on a plate and into the microwave to heat it up. Once he set the timer, he ran up the stairs to his bedroom where he grabbed a thick wool blanket that he had. He disliked it because it had been a gift from his dad's new wife few years ago, but it would still keep a person warm. He grabbed couple of clean socks as well.

Bounding down the stairs, he heard the timer go off on the microwave. Steve walked to the kitchen again, and placed the blanket, and the socks, on the counter and got the plate out of the microwave. It had gotten toasty warm. He placed the soup in next, and got the timer going again. He searched for a tin foiled plate in one of their cupboards and found two. He got them out and placed the lasagna in one of them and shut the lid tight. He opened up the next one and waited for the soup to heat up enough. Before it was ready, Steve grabbed a big plastic bag and placed the socks in. Beside them, he placed the lasagna, and then the soup, once it was done. Steve got out some plastic utensils from the drawer, wrapped them up in a napkin and placed them beside the plates. On his way out of the kitchen, he grabbed two bottles of water from the refrigerator.

Grabbing the blanket off the counter, he went out once again and got into his car. Carefully placing the bag beside him, he drove down the street. Two blocks away from his place where he thought he saw the homeless person. And they were still there.

Steve parked his car by the sidewalk, and killed off the engine. He got out of the car, with the bag in his hand, and he was about to go to the person, when he went back to his car. Steve dipped forward and looked into his dashboard. He searched found a pen and sticky notes. Grabbing onto them he wrote a small message on it, placed it on the bag. Steve walked back to the person who was now, laying down on their side, had their hoodie pulled up over their head. Steve couldn't see the person's face. He noticed that they were using a big black bag as a pillow.

Steve didn't want to wake them up, so he placed the plastic bag that he brought with him close to the person's bag and unraveled the blanket and draped it on them. The person didn't even stir or wake up.

Steve sighed and jogged back to his car, got inside and drove away.

In a way he felt good about what he had just done, but at the same time, there was something tugging on his heart that felt uneasy. It felt like he had this gut feeling as if he knew who that person was, but at the same time, not.

 

**\------------------------------------------------ Bucky**

 

Arms stretched out and up over his head, the sun beating down on his back, Bucky sighed in relief as sore muscles and bones, cracked and stretched in the best way possible. Sleeping on the cold ground when it was starting to get cold out was the worst thing that could happen to anyone who didn't have the means to sleep inside. He'd think that he was going to get used to it, but he was wrong. Every year it was the same. He'd train his body as best as he could to get used to the cold, but with no luck. And carrying a big bag around the town, on his back, which was filled to the brim with stuff, wasn't helping him either. He couldn't possibly leave them at school either. He had to protect what was his.

Bucky checked his old watch and saw that it was seven in the morning. If he'd hurry he'd be able to get to school in an hour and a half. Since he didn't have his bike anymore, he had to walk. The bullies at school were as friendly as the next vicious dogs on streets. He couldn't afford the bus today. Bucky didn't make as much money as he'd hoped at the diner, washing away the dishes. And in the afternoon, he had to pull his image up a notch to be able to take the dogs of the fancy neighborhood, out for a walk. The people that trusted him with their dogs didn't question his looks too much. He had a charming smile, he knew that, but he also needed to look a bit presentable so they'd trust him with their dogs. Even though each dog were $30-$50 for an hour, and he only could take 5 at a time, it was still money. He could still buy him food to eat and save up the spare for new cheap sneakers, or boots, for winter. He worn through his old ones.

As much as he hated spending money, he couldn't always steal from the school.

He didn't have his own place. He didn't have a roof over his head. A lot of homeless people were lucky enough to get one of those wooden boxes that the youth at the center made for people like him. He was waiting for his turn. He was tired from sleeping on the streets, on park benches for certain amount of hours, until a cop would come and tell him off. He was tired of being afraid that people were going to steal his shit while he tried to get a wink of sleep.

Securing his bag more firmly on his back, Bucky made his way down the street. He needed to stop thinking about how horrible his life was right now, and get in the mood of facing the day and the school. Bucky sighed and turned around the corner to get to a shortcut. He stopped short as he saw a bicycle laying on the ground. Looking around himself, he saw there wasn't anyone around. He hesitated for only a moment before he walked to it, dropped to his knees and gave a small examination to it. Finding nothing out of place, he grabbed it, straddled it and started to make his way down the street. To his delight the traffic wasn't so bad so he rode just off the main road.

While he was making his way to school, Bucky thought about the unexpected meal he had two nights ago. It had been placed in front of him while he was trying to keep warm and sleep. He kept still and silent as the man placed the bag beside his bag and threw a blanket over him. The good thing of having long hair was that no one could see his face, so there wasn't a chance of being recognized by anyone. And his worn out hoodie helped. He would store his street clothes at the bottom of his bag. That way no one would be able to see what he had in his bag.

Bucky didn't possess much. Just three identical long sleeved shirts, a pair of black sneakers that looked presentable to wear out side, and jeans that had seen better days. He really needed to start saving up for a winter jacket and boots. He also needed new and warmer jeans and sweaters.

Thinking back to the man, Bucky thought that the cologne that the man was wearing, smelled really familiar. It was one of those fancy ones that only rich people could get their hands on. He didn't dare look up and see who it was, so he pretended to be asleep. But then once he was sure that the man was well off his street, he sat up, looked at the car that turned the corner. He tried to read the car's numbers, but it was too far from him. Bucky grabbed the plastic bag and pulled it close to him. It smelled heavenly inside. He almost cried out in happiness when he found out that it was lasagna and potato soup. And they were still very warm. He then had grabbed the small post-it note that was attached to it, which said “ _I'm sorry if it's gone cold by the time you eat. Didn't wanna wake you. Enjoy!”_  and stored it in his hoodie's pocket.

Bucky smiled. He never really got lucky with food. Unless he'd hear that there was a party that one of the kids from school was throwing, he'd go there and eat as much as he could get away with. So this stranger's generosity made him feel warm. Made him feel like he was a human being.

He was closing in on to school and he gave a small resigned sigh. He didn't know what he would've done if he didn't have school. Even when he was homeless. He just thanked the higher powers that his good for nothing father was an idiot and didn't cut him out of the program. Since he was the one that paid.

Bucky's been homeless since he was fourteen. Since that horrible family dinner he had with his parents. Since he came out to his parents and they chucked him out of their house like he meant nothing to them. Like he was just a trash that needed to be taken out.

After that night, he ran away. He packed as lightly as he could, grabbed the stack of money that he kept in his safe, which lasted only for a while, and simply left.

He never looked back. His parents never looked for him. He didn't get that phone call from his mother begging him to come home, just like he'd seen in movies. He never got any of that. Instead, the money that he had on him ran out so fast he had to be hungry for two days. He had to sell his phone so he could have a small amount of money to get him something to eat.

And after that, he started looking for jobs. He'd do anything to get couple of bucks in his pockets. He'd still go to school. It was a good thing that he didn't have friends before, because he was sure that he wouldn't be able to keep everything that was happening to him to himself. So he isolated himself more from everyone. He snapped at anyone who'd look in his direction. He made himself look like the bad guy so they wouldn't meddle in his business.

It was for the best.

But then someday, it had all turned upside down when a certain blond haired, Disney prince lookalike dude walked into their school and got into his personal space. More into his space than anyone has ever been able to do before.

Suddenly his bike threw him face first into the ground. He smacked his chin on the ground and his teeth clacked against each other. He'd been so into his own head, thinking about his life, and how pathetic he is, that he hadn't realized that he was at school grounds, and that he had rode into one of the expensive looking cars. His heart stopped for two beats and then it went into overdrive when he realized  _whose_  car it was.

“Oh no... No no no no no,” he stood up, shook his head. He quickly walked to the side where he had hit the car with his bike and covered his mouth with his hand in horror.

The side was bent and the paint had been scraped off. His eyes misted over and he kicked the bike that was on the ground. That's what he'd get for being an idiot who didn't see where he was going. That's what he'd get for not paying attention.

Bucky bent down, grabbed the bike and threw it on the sidewalk, away from the car. He fixed up his bag and half ran, half jogged his way to the school.

Bucky had to find  _him._.. He had to find and tell  _him_  what he did. He had to apologize and tell  _him_  that he'd fix it. Somehow, someway, he'd save up enough to get it repainted and repaired. He'd make it right. Because god knew he could have something in his life that was  _good_ and he wasn't going to ruin because of his own stupidity.

Bucky stopped short as he saw  _him_ taking his books out of the locker. The gray t-shirt that he was wearing today made his shoulders look wider, and his back muscles moved as he worked on his bag. He honestly looked like a wet dream come true.

Clenching his jaw tight, Bucky briskly walked to his locker and waited for  _him_ to notice him. And when he did... Bucky's heart clenched.

Steve had a smile on his face. As if Bucky was someone that he was delighted to see. As if Bucky meant something to him. As if Bucky hadn't just ruin his car... But then the smile wiped off from his face and there was that clench of concern. Steve dropped his bag and turned to look at him.

Bucky couldn't look into his eyes. He stared down on the ground and clenched his jaw, trying not to cry. He had ruined everything.

“What's wrong?” Steve asked. It felt like he'd been asking him that question for quite some time now, over and over again. And despite Bucky trying to keep his distance from Steve, it didn't seem to matter to Steve at all. It was like he didn't care that Bucky avoided him for some time because he was having a shitty time being homeless. Steve was so open for Bucky, to embrace him for who he was, and to keep him close to him as if he wasn't the fuck up that he was. This was going to kill Steve's spirit and he was going to realize that Bucky was just a scum on this earth that didn't deserve his time.

“Hey, hey, what's wrong? Buck, breathe.”

Bucky hadn't realized that he'd made himself go into a panic attack. It was hard for him to breathe and his eyes were getting blurry. Steve grabbed his hands and placed them on his chest. The firmest chest that Bucky ever had the privilege of touching.

“Breathe with me,” Steve said and started to breathe a bit harder for Bucky to feel and match his own. So Bucky did. Here he was, receiving comfort from a person that he was going to lose, in the middle of a busy school hallway. How much more fucked up this could get?

When his breathing subsided into a normal one, enough that it made Steve satisfied by it, he squeezed Bucky's fingers and dipped down a bit to catch his eyes. Bucky tried to not stare, but he had this adorably concerned face on. And his eyes were too blue. Almost like the sky outside.

“Are you going to tell me what happened?”

“I...” he started and his throat closed up. His closed his eyes and reopened them to get blurriness away, without having to touch his eyes with his hands. It felt nice being held by stronger and rougher hands, okay. He was being selfish right now. Bucky bit down on his lower lip to stop him from crying.

“Hey, hey. It's okay. You can tell me what's wrong,” Steve soothed him. Bucky was a terrible person.

“I'm sorry,” he whispered. His chin wobbling from trying not to cry. “I'm so sorry. I'll pay for it I swear. I'm sorry. Please don't... just don't... I...”

Steve frowned and grabbed his hands more firmly as he tried to wiggle himself out of the grip, rather reluctantly. He could fight it off, he knew that, but it was warm like this. “What happened? Are you in trouble?”

“Wh-what?” the question shocked Bucky enough to stop fidgeting and to fully stare at Steve. He had a frown on his face and he was staring at Bucky with more concern now.

“Are you in trouble?”

“N-no,” Bucky stuttered out. “None that I'm a-aware of.”

“Then what's wrong? Talk to me.”

“I did something bad. And it's my fault.”

“You mentioned something about paying for something? I wanna know what happened. Tell me, please.”

“I broke your car.”

Steve released his hands and Bucky tried not to let the cold feeling he felt from the gesture get to him, but... He clenched his jaw and crossed his arms over his chest.

“I-I wasn't looking where I was riding my bike and I... I bumped into your car and... It's been scratched and there's a bump on it. I'm going to pay for it. You just give me time and I can scrape up enough to pay for it.”

“What? No.”

Bucky paused and looked at Steve. “What?”

“You're not paying for anything,” Steve said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“What the-What do you mean no?”

“I'll take care of it,” Steve bent down and grabbed his bag from the ground. He slammed his locker's door shut and went down the corridor.

Bucky jogged up to him, his bag bouncing painfully off his back, and said, “But I was the one that ruined it! I want to pay for the repair.”

“I don't think you should,” Steve said. “In fact, you are not going to.”

Bucky grabbed at Steve's arm and dragged him to stop. “Explain why not.”

“Because I've insurance?”

“Oh.”

They stood for a while; in a busy school corridor, with Bucky still grabbing on Steve's arm, and Steve staring right into his soul. With his damned blue eyes.

They were unrealistically blue, okay?

Then Steve smiled that cute small smile that somehow lit up his whole damned face and Bucky could breathe again. They were going to be okay for now. Steve didn't look mad, didn't look like he was going to beat his face in. He just looked chill about the whole thing. His only concern was directed to Bucky's emotional state as he tried to fumble his way through what he had to say.

“S-so, are we cool?” he asked hesitantly. He just needed to know for sure.

Steve rolled his eyes, shrugged Bucky's hand from his arm. But before Bucky could feel panicky about the gesture, Steve placed his arm over Bucky's shoulders and stirred them towards their classroom.

“You're one weird dude, Bucky.”

Bucky let out a nervous chuckle at Steve's words, but didn't say anything. He felt like his heart was going to burst out of his mouth.

“Yeah, well,” Bucky mumbled, flipping his hair over his ear, wincing at feeling how much he needed to get it washed. Maybe he could sneak in to one of the bathrooms after school, and wash it with the soap and the cold tap water. And then he'd go back out and let his hair to air dry.

“So! Do you wanna hang out sometime after school?” Steve asked, jostling him a bit on their way to class, with his arm over his shoulder. Still.

“Uhm... I-I can't.”

“Why not?”

“I have things to take care of.”

“When are you gonna be free?”

“I don't know.”

“You do know that friends hang out sometime outside of school, right? It's like a thing that friends do.”

Bucky rolled his eyes, but couldn't help the smile from growing on his face. “Is that so?”

“Oh yeah. It's like a thing that whoever got a friend, do.”

“And what does the activity entail?” he could see the stares that were being directed at them, but he couldn't think about it now. He was having a nice time.

“Well, it depends on what you want to do with the said friend. It can involve going to some place to just hang. Or going to either of the people's house who are involved in the said friendship, to have movie marathons and get pizza. Or just walk around the park and look bored right out of their minds.”

“Hmm...” Bucky pretended to think for a bit, earning himself a small smile from Steve. And then he said, “Well! I believe that the option of going to a friend's house sounds like fun!”

“Yours or mine?”

“Yours.” Bucky was quick to answer. Too quick, even. But if Steve caught it, he didn't say anything. The question came out of nowhere and Bucky wasn't prepared for it. Steve just smiled at Bucky and nodded.

They made it to their class, and Bucky made a beeline towards his seat in the back. He dropped his bag down, rolling his shoulders back to get some blood flowing in them again, and carefully opened it up. Trying not to reveal what was inside, he grabbed the necessary book for math, and the notebook he'd use for the class. Right before Steve sat beside him, he quickly closed is bag and sighed in relief. He was safe once again.

“Hey, Buck?” Steve whispered, trying to keep his voice down.

“Hm?”

“Why is your bag always so heavy and full?”

But before Bucky could come up with an answer, Mr. Coulson came into class, and the class had to start. He'd never been so thankful of seeing his teacher. Because that was a question that he wasn't willing to answer just yet. Well... Not now, not ever.

He swallowed hard and hunched in on himself, trying to make him as small as he could. He didn't miss the glance that Steve threw his way.

Bucky was a terrible human being.

 

**\------------------------------------ Steve**

 

After school Steve was leaning up against his car waiting for Bucky to come out. He was going to try and get Bucky to come home with him to study, or watch a movie, or somethig. He didn't care, so long as he could have Bucky in his own space. He sighed and looked down at his watch, it was almost three. He straightened up when he saw Bucky's hunched form, making a beeline to his discarded bike. It was close to where Steve's car was, and it looked well-worn. Steve didn't have time to think about it, since he had to quickly walk to where Bucky was.

“Hey, Bucky.” Bucky had already thrown his leg over the bike, but stopped to look at Steve with a raised eyebrow. “Look, I know you said that you're busy after school and all that, but... do you think you can possibly not be busy?”

“What do you mean?”

Steve shuffled his feet a bit and smiled down at the ground. He looked up and said, “You know how we talked about hanging with each other?”

“Yeah.”

“Why don't we do it today?”

“I told yo-”

“Yeah, yes I know. But... maybe you can post pone it?”

“Why do you wanna hang with me so much, Steve?”

Steve bit down at his lower lip and shrugged. He crossed his arms over his chest and looked around them. The kids were all hurrying to get out of school and get home. Steve didn't blame them. Since he wanted to do the same thing.

“Because I want you to be my friend.”

“Why me?” Bucky asked, sounding a bit desperate. Steve noticed that he was holding on to the handles of the bike a little too tight. “Why do you want me as your friend? You've Barton and Wilson.”

“Yeah,” said Steve. “I know.”

“Then what?”

“I just find you more interesting,” said Steve with a shrug. He took a step forward and said, “Please come over? My mom's working today. And she won't be home until later on in the night. I don't wanna have pizza all by myself.”

Bucky looked at him for a moment and Steve, not for the first time, reminded himself to breathe. There was something about Bucky that made Steve find him attractive. Bucky's eyes were out of this world. His lips were full, and his hair was...wet? Why was his hair wet? But then Bucky nodded and Steve broke out into a wide smile, and Steve all, but forgot about his wet hair. Steve told Bucky to get off his bike so they could place it in the backseat. Bucky protested that it'd get dirty, but Steve glared at him long enough to shut him up.

Once that was in, Steve placed his bag in there too. Bucky seemed to hesitate for a bit and then he carefully placed it on the floor of the car. They got in and Steve swerved out of the parking lot.

Bucky was quiet on the ride home. His hands were placed between his legs and he was chewing on his lower lip obsessively. His shoulders were brought up high and forward, as if he was trying to shield himself. And he looked very tense, Steve thought. Steve could feel the tension radiating off of him in small waves.

“So, what kind of music do you listen to?” Steve asked to make a small conversation, and to break the silence which was suffocating him already.

“Huh? Oh, uh... I listen to everything. Really. I don't have a specific genre that I stick to.”

“Me too. Although lately I've been listening to more old songs than this new age crap that most teenagers like.”

Bucky snorted and seemed to relax a bit. And started to talk how much he liked old school music. Steve thought that he liked this side of Bucky way lot more than the brooding one. He was fun to have around, either way.

 

**\------------------------------------------------- Bucky**

 

“Wow,” Bucky whispered as he looked around the house. He had his bag over his shoulder and he really needed to put it down, but he was distracted by the cleanness of the house in itself. He didn't wanna get his street germs all over the place so he'd keep the bag on his back.

“You can place your bag over here,” said Steve as he closed the door after him.

“Uhhuh,” replied Bucky, distracted. Bucky's never seen this type of town house before. It wasn't crowded, nor was it vast. It had a good designed taste to it that Bucky really appreciated. It felt warm, and cozy. And he was still standing in the hallway. He had no idea what he was going to feel like once he'd get inside. Bucky had a good idea that he was going to fall in love with this place in no time.

Steve stood beside him and raised his eyebrows at his face. Bucky probably had a silly face on. He blushed and looked down and then up at Steve. “So, you're rich.”

“I guess I am. Well my parents are. And my father likes to deposit money in my bank account as a way of communicating with me.”

“Lovely relationship with father?”

“Splendid.”

“Awesome.”

“What about yours?” asked Steve, offhandedly.

“Can I have some water?” asked Bucky in reply, trying to sound like the question didn't throw him off completely. And yet, it shouldn't have. It was only expected.

“Yes, come on,” said Steve, toeing his shoes off and padding down the hallway, to an open door which led to the kitchen.

“Should I get my shoes off too?” asked Bucky with a raised voice.

“If you want,” came the yelled out reply. “I just don't like wearing shoes inside. And  _please_ leave your bag by the door. No one's gonna steal it.”

Bucky let out a nervous laugh in reply. It wasn't like Steve knew how true his words were. That Bucky was afraid that he was going to lose his bag if he'd leave it somewhere where he couldn't reach. He took his shoes off and placed it at the corner and placed his heavy bag on top of them. He straightened his back and sighed as he felt his back muscles crying from relief. Ignoring that, he turned around and looked at the hallway's walls. He just noticed that they were covered with photographs and drawings. Which were in lively colors and looked very well done. As much as Bucky understood art, anyway.

Not wanting to linger in one place, unsupervised by his host, he walked to the kitchen and whistled. It was spotless and large. The windows looked out on the park nearby and it was a lovely scene. Bucky's old house had this type of scene...

“Here,” a glass of water was presented to him and Bucky took it with a small smile. He chugged it down in one go and Steve raised an eyebrow at him. “Thirsty?”

“Not really, thank you.”

Steve smiled at him and took the glass back and placed it in the sink. He turned around and leaned up against the counter, arms crossed on his chest. “So, what do you wanna do?”

Bucky looked at his bulging biceps, and swallowed. He was a teen! He wasn't supposed to be this...big. But he was. And it was a torture for Bucky. “I don't know. What can we do?”

“Well, I can give you a tour of the house. Show you some of my work and then watch a movie with pizza?”

“Sounds perfect.” 

 

**\---------------------------------------------------------**

 

Bucky tilted his head to the side and squinted. As much as he tried he couldn't make out the shape that it was supposed to take. “I... I don't think I'm getting it.”

Steve chuckled and shook his head. He stepped closer to where Bucky was standing, their shoulders brushing, and said to Bucky in a low voice, “Don't tilt your head at all. Stare forward and it'll come to you.”

Bucky did as he was told. He stood there, not moving a muscle at all, and then tilted his head to the other side. As subtly as he could.

“Yeah no. I see nothing but colors.”

“It's with the colors.”

“Nope.”

“Follow the green line and... It's there.”

Bucky squinted and followed Steve's instructions and... “Okay yeah I see something.”

“It's pretty, right?”

“What is?”

“The bird?”

“Oh! I thought you wanted me to just find the green line and stare at it.”

Steve sighed in exasperation and Bucky bit down on his lower lip. He liked riling Steve up like this, but he just couldn't get over the fact that he still couldn't find the bird in this painting. It was one of the many things that Steve painted in this attic, but some of them were too abstract for Bucky's non-artistic brain. Like this one in front of him. Steve was telling him that there was a bird somewhere there, but all Bucky could see were colors. Colorful colors. Carefully picked and mashed up together to create a masterpiece. Which Bucky was sure could be sold in some sort of fancy museum for thousands of dollars.

“Okay, I give up.”

Panic, raw and unbidden, clawed at Bucky's heart and he reached out a hand and grabbed Steve's arm in a tight grip. “Please, don't.”

Steve looked down at his hand and slowly looked up, right into Bucky's eyes. Bucky tried to calm his elevated breathing. He tried to blink so he could still his face into a neutral one, but... “Please don't say that to me,” he whispered, his voice barely loud enough to be heard.

“Bucky?”

“I'm sorry, I'll try to find it.”

“Hey, it's okay,” soothed Steve and Bucky hated this so much. He hated when Steve acted like this towards him, as if he'd blow up if Steve didn't. If Steve wasn't cautious with him and his words. It was pathetic and he hated it.

“I'm sorry,” he willed his fingers to relax and snatched his hand back. He looked down at his feet and frowned. At least he wore the new socks that he got. His old ones wouldn't do it.

“Don't apologize. I'm sorry,” Steve said lightly, but with a touch of softness to his voice. “My mom had the same reaction actually. It took her months to get the whole painting.”

“Really?” Bucky's voice sounded small even to his own ears.

“Oh yeah. And it came to her right in the middle of the fucking night when I was asleep,” Steve recalled with a soft smile on his lips. And pure adoration on his face that left Bucky feeling breathless.

“She sounds like fun,” he commented lightly.

“Oh she is,” Steve said.

“She made a lovely house for you both here. I like it.”

“I do too,” Steve replied lightly, but there was a small sad tone to it. But before it could register any longer, Steve directed his smile to Bucky and said, “Hey, you may meet her today, depends on how long you want to stay.”

“Yeah,” said Bucky. He blinked away the slight confusion as to why Steve acted that way, but it was gone. If it was for Bucky, he'd even sleep on this floor which was covered in paint. It felt warm here. But he couldn't...

“So, starving?”

“Yes.”

When they made their way down the stairs, Steve asked Bucky on what kind of pizza he wanted. Bucky said that he liked everything on top. So Steve ordered two big pies. They made their way to the living room. Bucky sat down on a very comfortable couch and tried not to let out a moan of pleasure at the feel of it. He just sighed through his nose and waited for Steve to put up Lord of the Rings. Luckily for Bucky, he'd seen the before everything happened, but Steve's excitement of watching it with a  _friend_  was something that made Bucky's heart swell.

Steve plopped down beside him and pressed play on the remote control. From the corner of his eye, Bucky watched as Steve got comfortable on the couch. He lift up his legs, curled one under his butt and bent the other leg up to his chest. He looked like a ball. Bucky bit down on his lip as to not smile at the Steve's made.

40 minutes into the movie, there doorbell rang. Bucky stood up quickly to get to his bag.

“Hey, hey! What are you doing?” Steve had jumped right after him. Bucky stopped and stared at him for a moment, wrecking his brain to come up with something that didn't make him sound like the lunatic that he was.

“Uh... I'm getting some money to pay off the pizza?” Good.

“What? No. It's my treat.”

“But-”

“No buts,” said Steve and he sounded so stern Bucky wanted to comply to his everything. “Get your ass back on the couch.”

“Do you have anything to drink?”

“In the fridge. Take anything you want.”

Steve walked to the front door, while Bucky made his way to the kitchen. He opened up the fridge and saw all of the assortments of food displayed in them. He'd kill to have something like this with him all the time, but...

He grabbed two cans of Pepsi and walked back to the living room. The pizza smelled heavenly. Bucky sat beside Steve and his stomach growled, embarrassingly loud. He blushed and Steve laughed at him.

“Me too, buddy. Dig in.”

And they did. They managed to eat the whole pie, and some from the other one. When they were full Steve said that he'll keep the leftover for his mom. Bucky smiled and nodded.

Once Steve was back they continued to watch the movie. Then it started to rain lightly.

“Do you miss Cali?”

“Almost every day,” Steve replied with a shrug.

“What was it like?” he asked quietly, his head resting back on the back of the couch, his face turned to look at Steve's profile. They didn't have the lights on, and the light from the screen was enough to light up Steve's sad expression.

“It was warm. People were friendlier. Open. We lived close by the beach.”

“You did?”

Steve nodded. “It was great. The sun was hot. And I went to this school that was close to the beach as well.”

“That sounds nice.”

“Yeah, we had swimming and surfing classes.”

“Were you taking the classes?” And an image of a wet Steve on a surf board, taking on a wave after wave, came to Bucky's mind. He'd give anything to see that in person.

“Yeah I have taken some classes, but I was terrible in that so I dropped out of it as soon as I could.”

“Really?”

“Oh yeah. I'm a terrible surfer.”

“I'm having a hard time believing that,” said Bucky with a smile.

“Thanks for the voice of confidence,” replied Bucky with a smile of his own.

“What about friends? Do you miss them?”

Steve nodded and said, “Yeah. I mean most of them were people that knew me through my mom. Since our parents worked together, or something like that, but despite that I had close people to me that I cared about. Some more, than the others.”

“What about here? Is it easy for you to make friends here as well?”

“People are friendly, don't get me wrong, but I'm still searching,” Steve said. He turned to look at Bucky and his breath got caught in his chest. The look that was directed at him, was too open. Bucky swallowed hard when Steve's eyes flickered down to his lips and then up to his eyes. “I may have found him.”

A thunder cracked through the sky outside, and the rain fell harder. Bucky's mouth was completely dry by this point, but he rasped out, “I better get going.”

His voice even sounded small. He didn't want to leave the warmth of this house, but he couldn't stay over either. Couldn't face Steve's open expression.

“Let me drop you off?” And the moment was over. Whatever that  _moment_ had been.

The question was something that would be offered to a friend, but to Bucky, it felt like a knife to his heart. Drop him off where? On the street? Yeah, he could do it himself. So with a forced smile, he said, “Nah its okay. I'm gonna ride my bike there.”

“You'll get wet.”

Bucky stood up and shook his legs. They sat in the same position for far too long. “Nah, I've a rain coat with me.”

“It looks like it's gonna rain harder.”

Bucky bent down to get his shoes on his feet.

“I'll be fine,” he said as he straightened up.

“But-”

“No buts, Stevie.”

The nickname came to him naturally and both of them froze to stare at one another. Bucky's hair was obscuring his vision slightly, but he thought that he'd seen a blush crossing Steve's cheeks.

Bucky bent down to get his jacket out and then his raincoat, feeling self-conscious and aware of Steve standing there. He could see inside Bucky's bag easily. But then a small part of Bucky wanted for Steve to find out. Wanted for Steve to demand explanation. Wanted for Steve to tell him that it was okay and that he could stay over in the attic as much as he wanted.

“I'll be fine. Getting to uhm...” he swallowed and smiled.

Steve assessed him for a moment, and his stare was too intense so Bucky shrugged on his jacket and raincoat and grabbed his bag. “Bucky-”

“Thank you for the pizza,” he said in a rush. He threw the door open and ran outside. It was raining really badly today and he cursed everything in his existence. And his stupidity for not getting his bag under his raincoat so it wouldn't get wet. But he was an idiot that didn't think. At all.

He swung his leg over his bike and pulled off the drive way. He thought he heard someone call his name, but it could've been his imagination.

Steve may be a nice person, but he wasn't going to sympathize with Bucky's misfortune. He was a homeless gay, teenage, boy; who did odd jobs here and there to scrape up some money to go by the days. The minute he'd find out about Bucky's true identity was the minute he'd lose Steve. In a snap, just like he got him in the first place.

Even when he tried to convince himself of this, there was a strong part of him that said that he was wrong.

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the end, things don't go very well for our boys.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good luck?
> 
> PS: I DON'T KNOW WHEN THE THIRD PART IS GOING TO BE POSTED SO KEEP AN EYE OUT ON HERE OR MY TUMBLR

 

  
  


**\--------------------------BUCKY**

 

And then he was dating.

One moment they were close with each other, talking and laughing at their own private jokes and such, and then the next... Steve had his arm around some guy that Bucky had never heard of before.

It had been two weeks since they had pizza together at Steve's house. They were getting along pretty well, as far as Bucky was concerned. Bucky was a lot more talkative than before, too. He even smiled a lot more. But then Steve had to go and get himself a boyfriend, and now he didn't even have time to talk to him at their lockers. At all. Sure there was the occasional greetings if they ever ran into each other, but it wasn't enough. They just got to be friends, and Bucky thought that they were making some sort of progress there. But he was wrong. It didn't help that it was getting a lot colder and it was getting harder and harder for Bucky to stay outside at in this weather. He really needed to go down to the shelter and see if there had been any sort of news on the small places that they'd give out to the homeless. He really needed that kind of place for him. At least for the winter.

Bucky sighed, feeling miserable, stabbing at a lumpy looking tomato in his salad. It was lunch time and he was at the cafeteria. He didn't even have an appetite to eat. He already stored away the yogurt and juice box he acquired from here. He tilted his face down, to obscure his face with his hair, as he let his eyes wander over to where Steve was sitting with Bryan.

Bryan was a ginger haired, green eyed guy that smiled too brightly. He probably had a heart of gold, probably rescued puppies just because they needed his help, probably helped out people to shape up the universe, and probably was the best thing that happened to Steve. Steve, who had his head back, laughed at something that Bryan had probably said. He seemed like a kind of guy that would make stupid jokes. His teeth were really white. They were probably fake.

And he was ginger.

And he had freckles.

Steve had freckles. Just a tiny amount of them. And it looked pretty on his face. Unlike Bryan's freckles.

How much would it hurt if Bucky stabbed Bryan in the face with his fork?

There was a movement right next to him and he turned his head to scowl at the person who thought it'd be wise to sit there while he was contemplating on hurting that freckled face douche.

Bucky did a double take as he saw that their school's cheer leading squad's captain, Natasha, sat next to him, with her red hair, with her permanent smirk on her lips, staring at Bucky with an unreadable expression.

“What?” Bucky snapped at her, when it looked like she wasn't going to say anything.

“I couldn't help but notice something.”

“Good for you.”

“You've been close to Steve for the last couple of weeks.”

“Uhhuh.”

“And now you're not.”

“Uhhuh.”

“Why is that?”

“It's any of your business, because...?”

Natasha shrugged and flicked her hair over her shoulder. “Just.”

“Just.”

Natasha stared at him for a long while. Bucky didn't waver his gaze from hers. But then her face cleared. Bucky's heart started to beat a bit faster than before. He knew the next words that would leave her lips were going to be something that he wasn't going to like. “You like him,” she breathed out.

Because the words were close to the reality. Bucky's heart stopped beating. His mouth went dry. His hands started to shake. “Mind your own business.”

“No wonder you're like this.”

“I'm like nothing.”

“You're feeling jealous of Bryan.”

“Just-”

“You think you've been replaced.”

Bucky stared at her for a moment, and then stood up. His chair screeched on the floor and as loud as the cafeteria could get, the sound still echoed around. Enough to make Steve turn around and look at his direction, with a small frown on his face. Their eyes met and Bucky's heart did a double take. When was the last time they shared a look? Never mind that. Bucky shook his head and bent down to grab his bag off the floor. He shouldered the bag, grabbed his tray and made his way to the trash bin; Natasha in tow.

“Please leave me alone,” he said to her, over his shoulder.

“I know there's something going on in you that you don't wanna share,” she said.

Bucky placed his now empty tray on top of the bin and walked to the doors. “Leave.”

“Why aren't you telling me?”

“Because we are not friends,” snapped Bucky. “You don't even know... God! You never even talk to me. Never acknowledge my existence, and now you want me to tell you something that isn't even there?” Bucky knew that he was making a scene by how loud he sounded, but he couldn't help it. His hands were shaking and he really wanted to get out of here.

“I can help you, Barnes,” Natasha said, and it seemed to snap Bucky.

He turned around sharply and raised his hands to grab her by her elbows but he stopped just in time. Bucky wasn't a violent person. Never was, and never would be. Natasha tilted her chin up in a way that made her look more stubborn than she already was.

“Leave. Me. Alone.” Bucky growled at her, staring into her eyes. Their faces were inches apart. His eyes were filled with restrained furry that wanted to burst out of him in a matter of seconds. Instead, he took a step back and then his eyes shifted to the side, where Steve was sitting with Bryan and his heart seemed to stop beating.

Bryan had Steve's face tilted his way, and his lips were connected with Steve's. They were kissing. It looked like one of those chaste kisses that would make his toes curl, no doubt. But it made Bucky's stomach roll in with disgust. His chest heaved as he stared at the way Steve looked at Bryan after the shared kiss. His eyes were shining with happiness... Happiness that wasn't provided to him by Bucky, himself. Something that Bucky would never be able to give. Not now. Not ever.

It was like a reality check for him and he took an unsteady step back.

He had forgotten that Natasha was waiting by his side so he had to take a couple of seconds to gather his bearings before he gritted out, through clenched teeth.

“I mean it. Leave me the fuck alone or I swear you will be sorry.”

“Whatever you say, Barnes.”

Bucky took a step back from her, turned around and left the cafeteria. He was certain that he heard someone calling his name, but he could've been wrong. It was just a wishful thinking on his part. He made his way out of the cafeteria and ran towards the main doors. He needed to get out of here. He didn't want to be in here. Not today. Not tomorrow.

What he saw today was enough to let him know that he wasn't appreciated. Or cared for.

He made a small happy bubble for himself, which for him, meant that Steve cared for him. That Steve wanted to be with him more than as friends. He really saw it coming, but it was different to actually see it. And today it proved him wrong. Today, he understood that he didn't mean anything for Steve.

Bucky felt like he couldn’t breathe. There was something hard and sharp sitting heavily on his heart and lungs, making it hard for him to be able to draw in a breath. It was hard for him to...

With a sharp inhale, Bucky ran outside and took couple of clean, fresh air. He closed his eyes and tried to stop his lips from wobbling. Tried to stop his eyes from tearing. Tried to breathe normally. But it was so hard to even do that. Everything was crumbling all around him and he couldn't do anything about it but move forward and hope for the best. But for now... Now he needed, wanted, to feel sorry for himself. He needed to get away from here, as far as he could.

Before he knew it, he was making his way down the small staircases of the school, when he was violently pulled back by his bag and dumped to the ground. He hit his head on the sidewalk and his vision blurred. He blinked up at the sky for a bit and then there was someone hovering over his face. His vision cleared and to his displeasure, it was Rumlow. He had a nasty grin on his face, and then his fist collided with Bucky's face, and Bucky didn't remember what happened next.

 

**\---------------------------------------------------Steve**

Steve was holding Bryan's hand as they made their way to his locker. He was talking about something that required for Steve to just smile and nod his head. He had no idea what Bryan was babbling about. Bryan was a babbler. He had a cute smile, and beautiful eyes. He almost looked like Steve, as Sam and Clint were insistent on telling him. But he couldn't see it. They'd tell him that they looked good together, but once again, he couldn't see it.

Bryan was a great guy, and they'd been dating for a few weeks now. Not too long to make it official, but long enough to allow Bryan to hang out around his friends at the football field after his practice. Long enough to let Wanda get them into a double date for tonight.

At first Steve didn't want to go, because he didn't feel comfortable with the way things were going for them, but he also knew that Clint wouldn't mind if they didn't work out in a week, or two. Or even the very next day. Bryan, on the other hand... Steve wasn't sure how he was going to react to that. Steve didn't feel that connected to him as he did with another certain person in this school. Which, speaking of...

Steve looked up and around himself, trying to spot Bucky, but he wasn't around. Steve frowned. Usually around this time, Bucky was in front of his locker and he would be getting prepared for math, but not today. Steve didn't want to feel worried about him, but he was. And after what happened in the cafeteria the other day...

“Hey, are you listening to me?” Bryan's voice floated through in his clouded mind. Steve shook his head and gave him a sheepish smile.

“Sorry, you were saying?”

“Are you okay? You seem a little off these days,” said Bryan, his voice tilting a bit.

Another thing about Bryan was, that he had a soft voice. Steve used to like it, but now he couldn't find enough reasons to shut Bryan up for a long period of time. It was terrible. Steve was a terrible person. “Yeah, I'm okay. Just thinking about some stuff.”

Bryan smiled at him, another sweet smile, and then he continued talking about something. Steve immediately tuned him off. They arrived to his locker and he placed some books in, and got some books out of there. He glanced to his right, and there was still no Bucky. Sighing, he shut his locker's door, and shouldered his bag. Bryan took his hand once again.

“I actually have to go,” said Steve.

“Hm?”

“I've to meet up with Sam. We have to go through some notes together before class, so...”

“Oh! Yeah, of course, baby. I'll see you after school then?” Bryan asked, taking a small step forward.

“Mhm,” Steve nodded with a tight smile. Bryan reached up to kiss him, but Steve turned his head a bit to the side and Bryan ended up kissing the corner of his mouth. When they pulled back, Bryan gave him a smile again, but there was a slight frown on his forehead.

Steve left him standing there, and quickly made his way to the classroom. He looked around and spotted Clint and Sam sitting at their usual place. He looked at the back of the room, but there was no Bucky. There was a slight worry in his rib cage, but he shrugged it off.

Steve made his way to his friends and they both greeted him with enthusiasm. He returned their greetings with his own. Steve didn't have to go through any notes with Sam. He didn't even feel terrible lying about it. There was probably something showing on his face because they asked him what was wrong, so he told them what he had done. Sam and Clint stared at him for a long moment.

“What?” Steve asked.

“Why are you even with him?” asked Clint.

Steve sighed and rubbed at his eyes. “I don't even know, man. I don't know.”

“Do you like him?” asked Sam.

“Dude, if he did like him, he wouldn't be lying to him about this now, would he?” replied Clint with a bored expression. He looked more like a grumpy cat when he said it.

“Yeah, I know that, but still. Shut up, man.”

“Nice comeback douche.”

“Guys,” Steve sighed in a mild exasperated tone of voice, “I do like him, I think he's a great guy.”

“I feel like there's a 'but' there,” said Sam.

“Of course there is,” replied Clint with an eye roll.

“But he's not... someone that I want to be with.”

They blinked at him. It was almost comical.

“There's someone else.”

Steve nodded.

“Do we know him?” asked Clint, in a low voice.

Steve nodded, again. They both looked at each other and then back at Steve. Sam shifted closer and said.

“You just started dating Bryan, dude. Maybe give him a bit more time?”

Steve shook his head and said, “No. I can't. There isn't that spark, you know?”

“You guys do look like each other,” pointed out Clint.

“And you guys do look good together,” added Sam.

“But there's no chemistry,” said Steve.

There was a bit of silence as the three boys stared off into a distance.

“What are you gonna do now?” Sam asked, breaking their small silence.

“I don't know. Bryan is a really nice guy, but...”

“You can't keep telling yourself that, Steve.” said Sam, “It's not right. To you, or to him. You gotta cut it off and try with this other guy. Who's he anyway?”

“Not yet,” said Steve just as Mr. Coulson came in, and their conversation stopped as the class started.

**\---------------------------------------------------**

 

Walking out of the cinema, Steve zipped up his leather jacket against the cold weather of Brooklyn autumn. It had been raining, it seemed, while they were watching the movie. The smell of rain and musk was heavy in the air, so he took a deep refreshing breath. He was feeling lightheaded. The movie was amazing. Steve wanted to come back and watch it again, because one of the people that he was with, at the moment, didn't share his enthusiasm for the movie. And he was being annoyingly loud about it.

“All I'm saying is,” said Bryan, fixing his jacket's collar again, walking behind Steve. “Is that it could've been different.”

“How different?” asked Clint. And Steve could note a hint of annoyance underlining his voice. Steve was sharing that annoyance as well.

“There was too much fantasy and CGI involved.”

“Because it's a magical world?” said Clint staring at Bryan like he was dumb.

“Yeah but compared to other movies.”

“Such as?” Clint crossed his arms across his chest and stared right into Bryan's eyes. Wanda cocked up an eyebrow at Bryan. Steve placed his hands inside his jacket pocket and waited for Bryan's explanation.

“Well, I don't know. There are some movies that don't need so much computerized characters, or action.”

“Yeah, because those movies didn't require it. This movie is something, that us, Potterheads, had been waiting for centuries.”

“You're a teen, though.”

“Doesn't matter what age I am,” replied Clint with a shrug. Wanda directed her gaze at Steve. She tilted her head slightly as if she was silently asking Steve if he was okay with this. Steve gave her a tiny nod. He really did want to break things off with Bryan. And this seemed like a good day to do so.

“Steve, back me up here,” said Bryan with a small laugh. “Didn't you find it too much?”

“Honestly?” said Steve, taking a small step back from Bryan. Which didn't go amiss from him. “I couldn't get enough of it.”

“Steve?” Bryan was looking at him with a quizzical expression on his face.

Steve ignored him for a moment and turned to speak to his friends. “There's a small coffee shop by the corner. Why don't I meet you guys there in about, 10 minutes?”

Clint nodded and Wanda looped her arm with his. “See ya,” she said with a small smile and the two of them left for the coffee shop.

Steve turned to look at Bryan. “I'm breaking up with you.”

“What?” Bryan asked. And he looked quiet shocked.

“I can't be with you, man.”

“And why not?”

Steve couldn't believe that he had to explain why. “I don't feel like we're compatible for each other. Our views are way too different.”

“But... people seem to like us together.”

“That's because we kinda look alike, but there's no chemistry between us. You know it's true.”

Bryan was staring at him with these sad eyes and for a moment, Steve felt like he was going to regret this decision. Because underneath it all, Bryan was a nice guy. But... he didn't win Steve's heart, in any way.

Bryan sighed and said, “Well... I guess I'll see you around.”

“Yeah, I guess so too.”

“No hard feelings,” said Bryan, smiling at Steve.

“Good,” replied Steve and gave an answering smile.

Steve walked to the cafe and looked inside from the windows. He spotted Wanda and Clint sitting side by side, their heads close to each other with soft smiles on their lips. They looked happy, content with each other. Steve didn't want to be the third wheel to their small cocoon, so, burying his hands more deeply in his jacket's pocket, he set off, down the road. He wanted to walk for a bit, clean up his head before he'd drive back home.

Bryan and he hadn't been together for a long time. But it felt long because ever since he had started dating, a certain someone with black long hair and indescribable eyes, had stopped talking to him. It was like having Bryan in his life, enabled Bucky to talk to him freely. Now, this way, he could have Bucky back. Only, Bucky hadn't been around school much and it was worrying Steve way too much.

He passed by a laundromat place which had a sign on it saying it was open for 24 hours, glancing inside as he did so. He was halfway down by the next store when he stopped and backtracked. There, at one of the chairs sat the person that had been plaguing Steve's mind for months now.

Bucky had a ratty old looking t-shirt on, with some jeans that had seen better day. He had white socks on and his shoes were on the floor, under the chair. He had his school books splayed open by the chairs and the small table close to where he was sitting. His hair was back up in a messy ponytail, and... Steve frowned. The side of his face was covered in bruises. Steve couldn't see from where he was standing, so he wasn't sure about his injuries. Maybe it was the shadow from the lights...

Without thinking about it much, Steve walked inside.

The door jingled slightly, alerting Steve's presence, but Bucky didn't look up from his books. Some loose hair were covering up some part of Bucky's face. Bucky reached up a hand to flip it over his ear and looked at some more notes. Steve bit down on his lower lip and hesitated for only a moment, then he cleared his throat. Bucky looked up and Steve fought hard to keep his heart from beating wildly in his chest.

Bucky had a faraway look in his eyes, which cleared away the minute recognition shined on his face. And then he looked nervous and Steve frowned. He didn't know why or what made Bucky look so nervous.

“Hey,” he said as he slowly approached to the seats.

Bucky didn't say anything, but he gathered up some of his books to give Steve space to sit down. He seemed to be doing everything he could as to not look at Steve. They sat silently, an empty seat between them. Bucky was looking the other way, while Steve was looking down at the floor. He didn't even know why he got in. He saw Bucky and felt the urge to go in and talk to him. And now he was here, and he had no idea how to form words.

“How... uhm... I haven't seen you around much,” said Steve, hesitating.

“Been busy,” came the curt reply.

“Oh.”

There was silence.

“I'm sorry,” he said.

Bucky snorted. “It doesn't matter,” he stood up and walked to one of the laundry machines. Steve followed him.

“It does matter,” he said as he caught up. “It matters to me.”

“Oh really?” Bucky said, and his voice had a hard edge to it. Steve didn't like it. Before he could answer Bucky continued, “I knew it was going to happen. I knew you were going to get a new boy to toy around with. I knew you were going to leave. Why would you stay?”

“Bucky-”

“And what's worse? I had hoped that you were different. I had hoped that you wouldn't do that to me,” Bucky let out an ugly snort that didn't sit well with Steve.

“I didn't-”

“And yet, you have done it,” Bucky took out his clothes out of the machine. Steve tried not to stare. His clothes looked...old. Worse for wear. Something that you'd see on people that didn't live well. Steve's heart plummeted into an overdrive. Could this mean...? Bucky kept on talking. “I mean, why would you stay behind, right? I'm nothing more than a loser and a freak who doesn't have friends, and walks around with this big ass bag over his shoulders-” he angrily shoved his clothes back in a dryer, shutting the small door with a snap. “-And,  _why_ would you want to be seen with someone like _me_?”

“Don't say stupid things,” said Steve, weakly. His mind was reeling.

“Stupid?” snapped Bucky. He turned around and faced Steve. His face was masked with anger. Steve's lips parted in surprise. Bucky's face was covered in bruises. Steve had been right.

“What happened to your face?” the change in Steve's tone didn't go unnoticed by Bucky. His face closed down and he looked down at the floor.

“Nothing,” Bucky said, walking back to the table where his books were.

“Is that why you were not coming to school?” Bucky started to shove his books back in his bag. Despite being angry, and looking harried, he seemed to know how exactly to place his stuff in his bag.

“Leave it,” Bucky's hand was shaking now.

Steve grabbed the math book just as Bucky wanted to take it from the table.

“Give it back.”

“Tell me, what happened to you.”

“Give it back. Now.”

“I will if you promise to talk to me and tell me what happened to your face.”

Bucky looked at Steve and Steve could see that there was something breaking behind his eyes. And then his anger vanished. He placed his bag back down on the floor with a clang, and walked to the dryer. He got out his clothes from there, and walked back to his bag. He shoved them back in. He got his sneakers from under the chair and got them on quickly. Bucky stood up and shouldered his bag.

Steve felt like his heart was going to fall right out of his chest, with the way Bucky looked; he looked defeated and tired. Years older than he was. Bucky looked at him for a moment and then shrugged, “Whatever.”

He walked right past Steve, and without looking back, left the laundromat. Steve rubbed at his eyes and walked after him. He caught up with him few steps away.

“Bucky, wait.”

“Leave me be, Rogers.”

“Why do you do this?” snapped Steve, barely keeping his voice down. “Why do you push me away when I want nothing more but to be close to you?”

“Steve...”

Steve grabbed Bucky by his arm and forced him to stop. “Why do you always have this wall up and never,  _ever_  allow me to see pass it?”

Bucky shook his head and tried to pry his arm away. “You won't like what you'll see. This is better.”

“Try me. Buck, try me.”

“You'll run.”

“I won't.”

“Everyone else did.”

“I'm not like everyone else.”

“Steve.”

“Buck,” Steve said softly, easing his pressure on Bucky's arm. He was resting his hand there more, than actually grabbing Bucky's arm. “You need to start trusting me. I'm... I'm sorry I didn't pay much attention to you while I was with him. I promise I won't do that again.” Bucky looked down at this, a deep frown on his face. Steve dipped down a bit to catch his eyes. Once he did, Steve smiled at Bucky and said, “I promise you, I won't ever make you feel like you're not someone that I'm proud to have in my life.”

“That's not what I meant,” Bucky mumbled, biting down on his lower lip.

“I know, but it's better if I say it out loud than leave you hanging, right?”

Bucky looked up and into Steve's eyes, and Steve realized how close they were standing. He could feel the faint air of breath that was leaving Bucky's open mouth. Steve swallowed, hard, his mouth suddenly felt dry. But he hoped that it wasn't showing on his face; the surge of desire he felt at that moment.

“I, uh... I got your book,” Steve said. His voice sounded strained.

Bucky blinked and he took a small step back. “Oh. Right. Thanks.”

Steve gave it back and waited for Bucky to place it back in his bag. Once he was done, he stood in front of Steve and looked like he was waiting for something. Steve's mind was completely blank. “Uhm...”

“I have to go,” said Bucky and he turned to leave. In panic, Steve grabbed his arm and stopped him.

“Coffee!”

“Huh?” Bucky turned around and raised an eyebrow at Steve.

Steve took a steadying breath and said, “Clint and Wanda are in the coffee shop close by. Do you wanna come with me? I'm supposed to meet up with them there.”

“Uh... sure. Yeah. Sure.”

Steve smiled at him and they both walked down the road towards the coffee shop.

“So... what happened between you and Bryan?” asked Bucky, hands shoved down his jeans pocket. Steve just realized that he didn't have a jacket on. And it was freezing outside.

“We just didn't work out. Buck, where's your jacket?”

“Huh?” Bucky looked at Steve, looking confused. Then he looked down at his body and his mouth shaped in a clean “o”. “I must've left it at the shop. I'm gonna go grab it.”

“Let me come with you,” Steve called after him, but Bucky waved at him and he ran inside. Steve took out his phone and saw a message from his mom, asking him how the movie went and everything else. Steve gave her a quick and a short reply back, just as Bucky came back.

“Hey,” Bucky breathed out and Steve looked at him. He was wearing a black wool sweater now and over it, he was wearing a burgundy hoodie.

“Don't you feel cold like this?”

Bucky shrugged and smiled, “Used to it.”

They continued walking.

“Scott is doing another party. Do you wanna go with me?”

“Yeah, I'd lo-like to. I'd like to,” Bucky smiled, and if it weren't for the cold, Steve would think that Bucky was blushing. “When is it?”

“This Saturday? It's kinda like a pre-Thanksgiving party. I heard he likes throwing these?”

“Oh yeah. I remember last year's. It was wild.”

They walked inside the coffee shop, and Steve instantly felt better. It was warm and a cozy looking place. It wasn't filled with a lot of people. There was a low music playing in the background. Steve spotted Clint and Wanda and tugged Bucky after him.

“Hey guys,” Steve said and sat opposite the two. Bucky dropped his bag beside him and sat beside Steve.

“Hey,” he said to them.

“Where the hell did you run off to?” asked Clint looking at Steve.

“I was breaking up with Bryan.”

“Finally,” mumbled Wanda, taking a sip from her coffee.

“How'd he take it?” asked Clint, looking at Wanda with a slight smile on his face, and then back at Steve.

Steve shrugged, “He seemed okay, I guess. I don't know.” He took off his jacket and draped it over the back of his chair.

“And where did you guys meet up?” asked Clint now looking at Bucky.

Bucky looked at Steve, and then back at Clint. “Uh... I was doing laundry and he came in.”

“Are you coming for Scott's yearly Thanksgiving party?”

“Steve invited me.”

“That's a yes, then?”

“Yeah, it is,” said Bucky as the waitress arrived.

“Hey, Gwen!” Steve said excitedly. “I didn't know you worked here.”

“Yeah. Peter's aunt owns the place, so I work here part time. Hey Bucky.”

“Hey,” replied Bucky with a small smile.

“The usual?” she asked.

“Please.”

Gwen looked at Steve and raised an eyebrow with a pleasant smile on her lips, “And for you?”

“What's his usual?”

“Chocolate cake with Nutella topping and hot chocolate.”

“Jesus, really?” said Steve. “I feel like I just got diabetes.”

“Steve, the health-freak,” chirped Clint.

“I have been having that for as long as I remember, so hush.”

“He's probably gonna order something organic or something close to it.”

Steve narrowed his eyes at his friends and said, “I'm not.” After a moment of hesitation he said, “Can I have the cake but with green tea, please?”

“You got it,” said Gwen, and walked back to the counter, to place in their orders.

“And I'm not a health-freak,” said Steve to his friends. “I just like to eat stuff that won't make me feel heavy.”

“Sure. And what was that, the other day, when you panicked when Sam ordered 3 cheeseburgers for himself?”

“That's different!”

“How's that different?”

“It just is!”

As they bickered back and forth, Gwen placed their orders in front of them. Bucky ate his slowly, as if he was enjoying every last bit of it. And he should, it tasted amazing. Steve liked how the cake simply melted in his mouth, and the Nutella had been added at just the right amount.

Their small gathering lasted for hours. The evening light dimmed down considerably, and now it was darker outside. It had started to rain again.

“Excuse me,” whispered Bucky to Steve as he stood up from his chair and made his way to where Gwen was standing. He started talking to her, but Steve couldn't make out what it was about.

“Hey, yo,” Clint snapped his fingers in front of his face and Steve blinked back to reality.

“What?”

“What's going on between you two?”

“What do you mean?”

“You can't keep your eyes off of him for two seconds,” Clint whispered to him quickly. Steve stared at him and then at Wanda, who was nodding her head. Steve let out a nervous laughter.

“That obvious, huh?” said Steve scratching at his cheek.

“Oh yeah,” Clint nodded.

“I feel like if we weren't here, you'd be moaning each other’s names by now,” Wanda said with a small smirk.

“Wanda!” Steve exclaimed a bit too loudly, getting a few of the patrons’ attention to him. He lowered his voice, “It's not like that.”

“But it's heading there.”

“Jesus.”

“Seriously,” she continued. “I'm positive that if you tried to kiss him, he wouldn't say no.”

“Don't be absurd.”

“I can prove it to you.”

“How?” said Steve quickly. The thought of kissing Bucky was... “Never mind. No. You're not going to do anything.”

“At Scott's party. I'm gonna prove it to you. Wear a navy blue shirt.”

“I'm not.”

“With black tight jeans. Don't forget your gray sweater jacket.”

“I'm not going to wear that.”

“You're not gonna wear what?” asked Bucky as he dropped back down on his seat.

“He was asking me about what to wear on Scott's party, and I gave him a bit of a push in the right direction,” Wanda replied with ease.

“He looks great in everything.”

Everyone stopped what they were doing and stared at him. Bucky blushed, deeply, as he drank more of his coffee. Steve didn't know what to do, except ask his heart to slow the fuck down and not kiss Bucky right then and there.

“He does, doesn't he?” said Wanda, with an air of observation. Steve felt himself flush.

“Shut up. All of you. Moving on.”

They stayed there for an hour more. Clint and Wanda left first, since it was time for Wanda to be home. Gwen had dimmed down the lights of the shop and it seemed to have quieted down considerably. Steve and Bucky were still sitting at the same table. Only, they were sitting a lot closer than before. They had gotten another mug of hot chocolate and they were nursing it as slowly as they could.

It seemed that the boys didn't want their time to be over just yet.

“When I was six, I had all the toy figures from this TV show cartoon called Grendizer.”

“Really?”

“Oh yeah,” Steve chuckled, shaking his head. “I loved it so much. I still kinda do, but don't tell anyone that I, sometimes, re-watch the series.”

“I won't tell a soul,” said Bucky seriously. But Bucky had a small smile on his face which meant that he was mocking him. Steve rolled his eyes and shook his head.

“Oh, of course you won't,” said Steve. His phone chimed with a message and he looked down at it. It was a message from his mom, asking him how he was and what he was up to.

“Everything okay?” Bucky asked. Steve looked up and caught Bucky staring at him. Bucky quickly looked away and Steve smiled.

“Hey, let's take a pic so I can send it to mom.”

“Huh? Y-you sure?”

“Yeah! C'mon,” said Steve scooting his chair closer and draping his arm over Bucky's shoulder.

“Oh. Okay,” mumbled Bucky, suddenly looking shy.

Steve got his camera ready and held it up in front of them. Bucky had a shy smile on his lips and Steve gave a big grin. He clicked his phone and the picture was taken. Steve looked down at their pic and his heart did a double take. They looked good.

“It's good.”

“Is it?” asked Bucky and he leaned in close to stare down at Steve's phone. He was so close to Steve, that if Steve wanted to he could bent an inch down and kiss the side of Bucky's head. But he didn't do it. “Oh. We look good. Send it to her.”

Steve did as he was told. Then he took another pic of their empty plates that were scrapped clean after eating the delicious chocolate cake.

“Did she reply yet?” asked Bucky, taking a sip from hit drink.

Just then Steve's phone chimed again. He let out a small chuckle as he saw her endless hearts emojis and exclamation points, demanding of Steve to get his butt to the hospital with the cake in hand or else. Steve showed the message to Bucky who let out a bark of laughter. Steve's insides did a flip. Bucky looked so different when he smiled. It was almost like staring at the sun.

“So, do you wanna meet her?”

“Your mum?” asked Bucky, looking surprised and nervous, all at once. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah! She's cool. Really.”

“Yeah, sure. Why not.”

“Awesome,” Steve enthused. “Hey Gwen?” he called out to Gwen, who was behind the counter. “Can we get one more piece of this cake to go please? And some hot chocolate too?”

“You got it!” she shouted back.

Steve got his wallet out of his jacket and he was about to make his way to her when Bucky caught his arm. “What are you doing?”

Steve looked confused, “Uhm... paying for everything that we just had?”

“No you are not.”

“Don't be an idiot.”

“I mean it. I already covered it.”

“Bucky-”

“I'm serious.”

“But I asked you to come here with me, not the other way around!” Steve insisted. He couldn't believe that Bucky would do this.

“Next time you'll pay for it. But tonight's on me.”

“It's a date then.”

Steve said the words before he could filter them. Or not say them at all. They sat there, staring at one another for what seemed like an eternity, but it was only a few minutes. Finally, Bucky spoke. His voice was low.

“Whatever you say, pal.”

They left shortly after that. They had to walk for a bit to get to Steve's car. Steve glanced sideways at Bucky's face and found that he had a small smile on his face. Steve's heart swelled, and his insides felt warm by this...

“I love this time of the year,” sighed Bucky.

“You do?” asked Steve, trying not to topple over his feet as he tried to look at Bucky while walking. “Why?”

“I don't know. I mean, don't get me wrong, it's cold as balls and the weather can get pretty nasty, but... it's pretty. The trees. The sky. And the colors at the park are the prettiest. Despite being cold, it has its warmness that you can't help but embrace, you know what I'm saying?”

Bucky was now looking at Steve with these big eyes and cheeks red from the cold. His hair was even messier than before, but he didn't look like he cared about it much for now. Steve knew what Bucky meant by it. He was staring at one now. Bucky made Steve feel warm.

“I know what you mean,” Steve replied with a low voice. It earned him a smile that Steve had never seen on Bucky's face. It was a warm smile, full of affection. It looked like home.

They got to Steve's car and Steve drove them to the hospital. He fiddled with the radio for a bit and then gave up on some station that was playing Ed Sheeran.

“I like this song,” commented Bucky and Steve quickly turned the volume up a bit. It was a slow song but it sounded upbeat at the same time. Steve liked it enough to drum his fingers on the wheel to it.

“ _I swear it will get easier. Remember that with every piece of you... Hm, and it's the only thing we take with us when we die~”_

Steve looked at Bucky so fast he was momentarily surprised that he didn't crack his neck. Bucky was singing along to the song and his voice sounded...incredible. There was no other word to describe it. And he looked at peace while he was singing to it. As if he'd been doing it for years, and it came easily to him. He looked like he was in his own little world. So Steve kept his mouth shut as to not blurt out something along the lines of ' _I wanna kiss you silly_ '. Instead, he gripped the wheel tighter and pressed on the gas a bit harder.

The song ended soon, and another one started playing, but this time Bucky didn't join. Steve took his eyes off the road and looked at Bucky. He looked...different now. His expression was shut down, and his eyes had a faraway look to them. Steve, not liking this, said, “You sounded nice. Do you take classes?”

It took Bucky awhile to get back to reality, it seemed, and then he said, “I used to.”

“Not anymore?”

“Past tense, Stevie,” sighed Bucky. “Past tense.”

There was something in the way that Bucky had said that made Steve feel uneasy. He didn't say anything on the subject. Bucky didn't sing a word after it. They got to the hospital shortly after that. Steve cut off the engine and both walked inside. Steve greeted some of the nurses that he got to know through time.

“Hey Steve, your mom's on the third. She just got out of a surgery.”

“Was it successful?” asked Steve. He knew it was successful. His mom was a genius.

“Obviously,” she said with an eye roll. “You know that your mom's the best.”

With that, she left, leaving Steve with a goofy smile on his face. His eyes landed on Bucky who had a small smile on his face. “She's that good, huh?”

“You have no idea. Come on.”

The boys got to the elevator and they rode it up to the third floor. Once there, they had to make their way slowly because of the gaggle of people that were gathered around in the hallway. He craned his neck up a bit to see if he could spot his mom, but she was nowhere to be seen. Without thinking about it, he reached out and grabbed Bucky's hand. “Let's go this way,” he said and tugged at his hand.

Bucky followed him through the people without a sound. Steve held on tighter on Bucky's hand as he had to squeeze his way through more people. Finally, they got out and Steve didn't drop Bucky's hand, still. They made their way to the doctor's lounge, where the door was ajar. Steve knocked on the door twice, and he poked his head inside.

“Sorry to bother,” he said to the doctors that were there. “But I'm looking for my mom. Sarah Rogers?”

“Steve!” Sarah stood up from the back and made her way to him. She flung her arms around his neck and kissed his cheek. “When did you came?”

“Few minutes ago. Mom, you know there is a small group of people standing there, making it hard for non-working people to walk through them. Harder for the others who do work here. Obviously.”

Sarah sighed and scratched her cheek, “There was a car accident and their son,-” she pointed at the two elderly couple, “-was the driver. He suffered a severe head injury so they're all here, waiting for the results.”

“You haven't spoken to them yet?”

“What is there to talk about?” asked Sarah and then she looked at Steve's left side. “And who is this cutie?”

“Mom!” Steve felt his cheeks flame from embarrassment.

“What? Not like you haven't told me about him countless of times! It  _is_  him, right?” she asked, her eyes wide with wonder and a smile on her lips. She looked excited.

“Yeah, mom. This is Bucky. Buck, this is my mom, Sarah.”

“Pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Rogers,” said Bucky extending his hand for a handshake.

“No. Come here,” she stepped forward and hugged Bucky tight. Bucky stood there, frozen. It was unexpected of her, so he didn't know what to do. By the time he willed himself to move his hands up to hug Sarah back, Sarah took a step back. Steve couldn't help but notice the hint of disappointment on his face. “And please, call me Sarah. Mrs. Rogers makes me feel old and brings back memories I'd rather bury for the rest of my life.”

“I will,” Bucky nodded, looping a stray hair behind his ear.

Sarah smiled at him and beckoned him and Steve to the doctor's lounge of the floor. They sat by the table and Steve gave her the chocolate cake with hot chocolate to drink. She started to eat it with delight. She closed her eyes and hummed in pleasure. “Mmm... This is pretty great.”

“It's thanks to Bucky that we now know of this,” Steve said, directing a smile Bucky's way.

“Your friends were there, and I knew what they had. It wasn't like I suggested the place,” Bucky said with a shrug, and a blush on his cheeks.

“But you recommended this, so it's your fault that we're gonna get fatter than we are right now.”

“Oh please, as if you would ever gain an ounce of fat,” Bucky snorted. “Look at you,” Bucky nodded his head at his direction, and Steve looked down at his chest. “It wouldn't even show on you.”

Steve couldn't help, but blush at that. “Shut up, you ass.”

“Sure,” Bucky said with a cheeky smile on his face. Steve had to stop to take a deep steadying breath. For couple of times. Sarah sighed at that moment, and Steve, embarrassingly, forgot that his mom was witnessing this.

“Oh, don't stop on my account,” she said waving her hand around. She stood up and took the containers to the bin. “I have to get back out, anyway. You'll be okay to go home, right?”

“I've a car,” Steve replied nodding.

“Okay, good. Bucky,” Sarah said and she walked back to the table. Bucky stood up quickly and allowed Sarah to hug him. He was quick wrap his arms around her, and squeeze her close. “It was a pleasure to meet you. Finally.”

“The pleasure's all mine, Sarah,” Bucky replied with ease, and a slight tint to his cheeks.

Sarah smiled at him and cupped his cheek, “Don't you think that I haven't noticed the bruising, though,” she said almost conversationally. “Does this happen a lot?”

Bucky seemed to hesitate, but then he shrugged and said, “Couple of times in a month.”

“Do you need some help with it?”

“No, thank you,” Bucky said, giving her a small smile. “It's getting better, anyway.”

Sarah and Bucky shared look that Steve didn't have time to understand, before he was turning around and leaving Bucky and Steve there.

They left shortly after.

When Steve made it to downtown, he slowed down his driving and turned the volume down of the car. He didn't even pay attention to the song, he had concentrated on Bucky's voice and how easily it seemed to leave his lips. Suddenly, there was a crack of thunder and it started to downpour.

“Shit,” Steve exclaimed and quickly parked his car by the sidewalk. “It's better if I don't drive at this weather, for now. It's okay if we'll wait for it to subside?” Steve cut off the engine and turned to look at Bucky. He had his hands curled under his arms.

“It's cold,” Bucky whispered, as he saw Steve staring at him. Steve quickly turned the heater on. Bucky pulled his hands out of under his arms and quickly stuck them in front of the fan; where the warm air was coming out from. He sighed in bliss and he shook his hair away from his face.

He looked so pretty. Sitting like this, cheeks red from the cold, huddled up in his hoodie, hair up in a messy bun... Wisps of hair falling on his face that Steve fought the urge to push back with his fingers. It wasn't his place to do it. Nor it would be wise of him to do so. It would complicate things and Steve really didn't want to lose Bucky. They just got back together as friends. He was sure it was going to take some time for him to gather up his wits and make the move. Or maybe Bucky would beat him to it. He wouldn't mind either way.

The thunderstorm had subsided considerably, but it kept raining. And they were still silent. Steve drummed his fingers on his legs and turned his head to talk to Bucky, only to find him already staring at him. Steve's lips clamped shut with a click and his mouth dry. He was once again struck by how gray Bucky's eyes were.

“So...” Bucky whispered and Steve blinked. The moment was over.

“Uhm... I should probably drive. I wanna drop you off first. Where do you live?” Steve asked as he started the engine again. The car was filled by the sound of the heater and the windshields wheezing sounds, going back and forth on the window. He got his car off the parking space and onto the road again. He had to drive slowly as to not make his car slip. He'd need to go and get the tires changed soon, before it would start to snow.

“By the park is fine,” replied Bucky in a low voice. Steve nodded.

“Close to downtown?”

“Sure.”

They drove in more silence. There was something with the way that Bucky talked of the park. Steve didn't know what it was but it didn't sit well with him. So he scratched at his cheek and stopped at the red light.

“What time do you have to be home?” Steve asked, looking sideways at Bucky.

Bucky's face got a pinched expression to it and he seemed to take a deep breath, before his face masked an expression of indifference and he shrugged, “It doesn't matter. I don't have a curfew.”

“That's so cool,” Steve said with a sigh. “My mom didn't set a curfew on my ass, but she expects me to be at home at a considerable hour.”

“That's pretty cool, too,” said Bucky with a small smile. Steve gripped the wheel just a bit tighter.

“But hey, if you don't have a curfew. Maybe, just maybe, if you want to obviously. You can say no and I will silently drive this car to the park. So, like, I'm saying that it's okay if you say no, you know? Like totally-”

“Dude, just ask! Oh my God!” Bucky snorted out a laugh after he said it. It seemed like he'd been holding back his laughter.

“Stop laughing at me, man. Come on,” grumbled Steve as he continued to carefully drive his car. His cheeks were reddening from embarrassment, but he ignored it.

“Okay, okay! Sorry. Continue with your rant.”

“I wasn't ranting!” exclaimed Steve, knowing full well, that he was wrong.

“Mhmm, sure.”

“Anyway!” said Steve with a bit of louder voice. Bucky continued to chortle at him. “I was going to ask if you wanted to hang at my place for a bit. Take out and a warm house?”

“Sounds great,” Bucky replied with a smile in his voice.

Steve found that he liked it as much as he liked starring into his gray eyes.

 

**\----------------------------------------**

Once at home, Steve quickly turned the heat up because it started to rain harder outside and both of them were really cold. Bucky was shivering so hard that his teeth clattered together and Steve could hear it standing a few feet away from him. Steve and Bucky got their shoes off by the door, and Bucky dumped his heavy bag by the table with a clang.

“I'm gonna go and change into something comfy. Do you wanna change too?” Steve asked as he slowly made his way up the stairs, looking at Bucky as he did so.

“No, thank you. I'll just be in the living room. Is that okay?” Bucky asked as he indicated at the direction.

“Of course. Make yourself at home. I'll be back soon.”

Steve quickly made his way up the stairs and into his bedroom. He made quick work of getting out of his jeans and his sweater. He put on his home clothes, which were plain sweat pants and a hoodie. He grabbed his socks from the drawer and put them on too. Steve then placed his phone into his pocket and made his way downstairs. He could feel the house warming up by the second. It felt nice.

Steve made his way back to the living room and saw that Bucky was sitting at the side of the couch, legs curled up to his chest with his chin resting on his knees. He stopped for a moment to stare at Bucky, and the way his eyes seemed to be looking at nothing. Steve had to curl his fingers into a fist as to not go up to Bucky and take him into his arms. Instead, he walked to the couch and dropped down with a sigh.

“The weather's so shitty I don't feel like moving at all,” Steve grumbled and placed his feet on the coffee table.

“Does your mom allow you to place your feet on there?” Bucky asked staring at him sideways, with his eyebrows raised.

“Nope,” Steve said with a cheeky smile. “But she won't know that I've been doing it.”

“Your feet smell,” said Bucky.

“They do not!”

“They do. I can smell them from here,” replied Bucky with so much seriousness, that Steve had to sit up and pull his feet down to the floor. And just to prove Bucky wrong, he lifted his foot up with his hand and sniffed. It didn't smell.

“It doesn't smell!”

“Made you get your feet off the table, didn't I?” said Bucky with a chuckle.

“You little shit!” exclaimed Steve. Before he could stop himself, he reached out an arm, wrapped it around Bucky's shoulder and pulled him down to the floor. Bucky shrieked and tried to kick, but Steve was faster. He grabbed Bucky's flailing legs and placed them firmly on the ground. Steve then sat on both of them and Bucky decided to use his hands to push Steve off of him, but Steve was quicker, again. He grabbed both hands and slammed them down on the floor, by Bucky's head.

“Gotcha!” Steve said, feeling breathless. His heart was hammering away in his chest and it took him a few seconds to realize the position they were in. He stared down at Bucky's heaving chest, as he looked up at Steve, with his eyes wide open, and his lips parted as his breath left them in small puffs. Steve licked his lips and his eyes roamed over Bucky's face. He stopped at Bucky's lips. Bucky licked his lips and his chest stopped heaving so much.

Steve, hesitated for a bit but then he slowly moved his head down closer to Bucky's face. Steve was giving Bucky plenty of time to stop this, to tell him to fuck off and never want to speak to Steve again. But as far as Steve was concerned, there wasn't any negativity shown on Bucky's face. So he didn't stop until he could feel Bucky's breath on his lips. They were inches apart and Steve gave Bucky another chance to push him off, but Bucky didn't. Instead he licked his lips again, and Steve took that as an invitation and swooped in for a kiss.

Their lips didn't even touch when his phone started to ring. Steve quickly pulled himself away and off from Bucky. He walked a few steps away from Bucky, and grabbed his phone from his pocket. He checked the ID and saw that it was his mom. He had never wanted to tell his mom to not call him for the next few hours, but he knew he couldn't. Knowing that they weren't going to go back to the moment, with a defeated sigh, Steve answered the call.

“Hey, mom?”

“Honey, I can't talk for long, but I wanted to let you know that I'm going to pull an all nighter. I'm sorry.”

“It's okay, mom. You do your job. I'll order in take out,” Steve replied, scratching at his head. Why couldn't she just text him, to let him know about this? Steve sighed and bid his mom a good night, and ended the call. He turned around to look at Bucky, who was sitting up on the couch now, staring at him with a slightly flushed cheeks. Steve had to take a deep, deep breath, and release it slowly, before he said, as casually as he could.

“Take out?”

“S-sure,” Bucky replied. He seemed hesitant and Steve didn't really blame him. It was usually around this time when people would make an awkward exit and not talk about this, or to each other about this, ever again. But Steve invited him over, and he wasn't going to make this awkward. So he got into an app where he could order online, and walked back to the couch. He sat a bit closer to Bucky and thumbed through the app.

“What would you like to have?” he asked casually, going over to the sushi section.

“Whatever you'd like to have. I'm not picky. Really.”

Steve nodded. He ordered them sushi, which would get here in about forty minutes. He said so to Bucky and placed his phone on the table. He sat back on the couch and stared at his hands in his laps.

Ten minutes went by, without a word shared between them.

Five minutes more, and then Bucky said, “I should proba-”

“Don't go,” Steve was quick to say. He stared at Bucky, feeling desperate. “Please. Don't leave.”

Bucky looked back and he seemed to consider this for a moment. Steve felt like his heart was going to burst out of him, but then Bucky nodded and Steve felt himself relax.

He curled his hand into a fist, to prevent him from doing something stupid, such as reach out and hold Bucky's hand in his. And then he was doing just that. Bucky's hand was just there. Looking all innocent, and soft, with rough edges, and inviting. What was Steve supposed to do but to hold his hand? So he did. Heart in his throat, Steve thought that one of these days, he was going to have a heart attack by how fast it was beating because of Bucky.

Steve felt Bucky's hand twitch underneath his. Steve started to extract his hand back and apologize, but then Bucky twisted his hand around and interlaced their fingers together, squeezing his tight. Steve let out a breath that he didn't even know he was holding back.

He squeezed Bucky's hand back just as tight.

“I like your hands,” Steve whispered, stretching out his fingers, moving Bucky's fingers to lay on top of his.

“They are dirty,” answered Bucky. His voice seemed rough, but steady.

Steve shook his head and said, “Still, I like them.”

Bucky didn't answer, but Steve could hear Bucky's labored breathing. Steve intertwined their fingers and squeezed them together. He looked at Bucky's face; who had his eyes close, pinched eyebrow, and lips parted as he breathed in and out.

“Hey,” Steve breathed out and sat up straighter. He reached out with his free hand and, feeling hesitant, placed his hand on Bucky's cheek. Bucky frowned a bit harder, and turned his face into Steve's hand. Steve gently moved Bucky's head to his side and caressed his cheek with his thumb. “Hey,” he said again, “Look at me.”

Bucky took a deep steadying breath and fluttered his eyes open. There were way too many emotions swirling in there for Steve to understand what was going on, but he took a deep breath and said, “What is it? You can talk to me.”

“I know,” Bucky said, his voice choking. He nodded, and said, “I know I can... I just... I'm not...”

“Hey, hey. It's okay. Take as long as time you need to, okay?” Steve said, cupping Bucky's cheeks with both of his hand, and shuffling closer on the couch. “I'll be right here, for you. No matter what.”

“You're gonna hate me so much.”

“I won't. I'm not. Buck-”

“They always do.”

“Who does?

But Bucky shook his head and looked down. He wasn't crying, but the detachment and the way his eyes were starting to gloss over with numbness was unsettling for Steve. He didn't want to push. He didn't want to say anything to send Bucky into a despair. So the only thing he could do for now was to sit back and pull Bucky closer to his body. He wrapped his arm around Bucky's shoulder, and held on his hand that was the closest to him. Steve was going to give comfort to him. When he'd be ready, they'd talk about what was bothering Bucky.

Few minutes had passed, and Steve was sure that the delivery guy was going to be here at any second. He excused himself from Bucky to go up to his bedroom and grab his wallet. By the time he was coming back down, there was a knock on the door and Steve hurried to get it. He paid the guy by cash, and left him the change. The food was warm and it smelled good.

But when he got back to the living room, he stopped short. Bucky was sleeping on the couch. He was curled in on himself and his head was tucked into his chest. His arms were wrapped around himself and his legs were pulled up close to his chest. His face was relaxed and his mouth was slack. There was a low snore leaving his parted lips.

He looked deep in slumber. Steve didn't want to disturb him so he placed the plastic bags on the table, and went to the cupboard, under the stairs, to grab the thick wool blanket that they kept there. He grabbed it, and went back to the living room.

He draped the blanket over Bucky's shoulders first and smoothed down his sleeping form. His eyes caught the socks that Bucky was wearing and his hands stopped moving. They looked like the same brand of socks that he'd wear. Steve looked up at Bucky's head and looked closely at him. Could he be...? Steve shook his head and dragged the blanket down his feet.

He was being stupid. It wasn't like he was the only person on the planet that used that brand's socks. Bucky could just as easily be able to afford them as well. Steve shook his head once again and grabbed the food off the table and walked to the kitchen, where he took out the stuff that he was going to eat, and placed the others in the fridge for Bucky. If he'd wake up anyway.

He quickly wolfed down his food and dumped the empty containers in the bin. He shut off the kitchen's lights, and quietly made his way back to the living room. He peaked at Bucky, from over the back of the sofa, and saw that he was still asleep. Gently, he pushed the wisps of hair on Bucky's face, to look at his face once more, before he left for bed. Bucky looked at peace, and it warmed Steve's heart greatly.

He dimmed down the lights in the living room, checked the temperature of the house. He then locked the front door, securely, and made his way up to his bedroom. He dropped down on his bed with a great sigh and closed his eyes.

It was going to be a weird morning, he could tell.

 

**\-----------------------------------BUCKY**

 

He felt warm. Warmer than he had felt for a very long time. And he also felt relaxed. He didn't feel any of the normal back pain he'd have every morning sleeping on the streets. Or on park benches. Curious, Bucky stretched out his legs and getting his arms up and over his head he gave a full body stretch.

“Mmm...” he hummed as he relaxed back once again. It really did feel nice. And he did feel warm.

His snapped open and he froze. He was laying down on a couch. Inside a very warm house. He swallowed with a click and slowly sat up. Rapidly blinking, and with a growing panic, he realized what happened.

He had fallen asleep at Steve's house.

Controlling his breathing, Bucky threw the blanket off of him and stood up. It really was warm inside this house. He slowly made his way to the hallway and saw that his boots and his bag were still sitting up by the door. Sighing in obvious relaxation, he walked up to them when a voice called his name.

“Buck?”

Trying to suppress a shiver, because of how his name sounded on those beautiful lips, he turned around and plastered a soft smile on his face. “Hey.”

“Morning,” said Steve. Coming out of the kitchen, Steve slowly made his way towards him. He looked delicious. “Did you sleep well?”

“Yeah,” said Bucky, swallowing. “I'm sorry I crashed like this. It wasn't my intention. Really.”

“I know, I know!” said Steve holding up his hands in a placating way. “It's totally fine, honest.”

“But-”

“No 'buts',” said a voice behind Steve that belonged to a female. “Tell him to stop being an ass and come to help himself for breakfast!”

Steve looked right into Bucky's eyes, and Bucky forgot how to breathe. “What she says, goes. So you better drop your boots and come for breakfast.”

“Let him wash up first!” yelled out Sarah. “Manners, Steve!”

“Oh! Right, right. Yes. Okay. Remember where my room is?” Bucky could only nod. His tongue was stuck at the roof of his mouth, really. “Get up there. I've a bathroom. Wash up. You can even take a shower. Clean towels in the drawer, and uhm...” Steve's cheeks were flaming and before Bucky could say anything, Steve nodded and said, “Yeah. Shower. Okay. I-I'll be in the kitchen. We won't eat until you come back.”

And with that, Steve turned around and walked back to the kitchen. Bucky stood there, rooted on the spot. He didn't even know what just happened, so he turned around, grabbed his heavy bag and walked up the stairs to Steve's bedroom.

Once inside, he dropped his bag by the door with a thud and looked around the bedroom. His bed was still unmade, and feeling reckless, he peeked outside the hallway to check if there wasn't anyone out, before walking to the bed and taking Steve's pillow. It felt soft and fluffy, but he didn't want to feel it. Lifting it up to his nose, he inhaled softly and closed his eyes. It smelled like Steve. He couldn't place his finger on, on exactly what Steve smelled like but it was something that he could easily get addicted to.

He dropped the pillow down on the bed, feeling like a creep. He swallowed, hard, and got his bag from by the door, and walked to the bathroom. He locked it after him and looked around.

It was a small place, but nice. Had a shower, a counter, and a toilet. He looked himself in the mirror and cringed. His hair looked awful and he had bags under his eyes. The only plus side, out of this whole thing was, that his back didn't feel like it was going to break in half. His body felt rested, somehow.

But a shower would do him wonders right now. When was the last time he took a normal shower? It didn't matter. It took him a moment, to get the warm water going. Once he took care of that, he quickly stripped out of his clothes, and before going in, he took out the towels from the drawers.

He got under the hot steamy water and let out a relieved sigh. It felt amazing. He tried not to linger too much, but it was hard. He did a quick job of cleaning and rinsing. He shut off the water and got out. Bucky wrapped a big towel around him, and dried his hair with the smaller one. He then took out a pair of underwear from the bottom of his bag and placed the one that he was wearing underneath his clean clothes in the bag. He grabbed his bag, and his clothes and took the risk of getting dressed out in the bedroom instead of in the bathroom.

“Oh.”

He stopped short as he saw who made the noise. Steve was making his bed. His hands were frozen midair, with his hands tightly holding up the blanket. Steve was staring at him and Bucky was staring back. Steve let his gaze to wander down Bucky's chest and Bucky felt unconscious the minute Steve's eyes paused at his belly. He wanted to hide and never come out of his hiding place. But he was frozen in place. He didn't know what to do.

“I'm sorry,” blurted out Bucky. He held up the towel and his bag closer to his chest.

“I-I'm sorry. I didn't think-I...” Steve let out a sigh of breath and his grip tightened on his blanket. Bucky swallowed and kind of shuffled on his place. He didn't know if he should go back to the bathroom or step forward. Considering what happened last night... Or rather, what almost happened last night.

“I didn't think you'd be here,” said Bucky, his voice a bit louder.

“Yeah,” replied Steve, hoarsely. He cleaned his throat and tried again. “Yeah. Uh... mom had to go to the hospital again. It-It snowed out and there had been some-some casualties and some traffic...things...” Steve's eyes wandered over Bucky's body. Bucky watched as he lingered on certain placed, like the bag that was still clutched to his chest. Bucky was going to drop it but then Steve, dropped his blanket down and walked out of the bedroom. He shut the door after him with a snap and Bucky snagged down on the wall.

He let out the breath he didn't know he'd been holding and closed his eyes. He didn't know what Steve was thinking staring at him that way. Didn't he realize that Bucky wasn't worth it? That Bucky wasn't worth his time and efforts, which he could clearly use on a lot of other people? Couldn't he just see that Bucky was a nobody? Nothing to offer. Nothing.

Bucky hit his head against the wall. The impact hurt his skull, but he didn't care. He needed to get his shit together. Eat some breakfast, take his stuff and leave for school and try to avoid running into Steve.

But as he got dressed and made his way downstairs, he realized that it would be futile to do so. He was going to get a ride with Steve, he was sure of it, because of the snow. And he was going to walk to their lockers with Steve by his side. Looking handsome and chat about something that Bucky wouldn't be able to hear a word from because he'd be distracted by how animated Steve could look.

Heart heavy, and resigned, Bucky made his way to the kitchen. He stopped by the door and observed the scene. Steve was making some eggs on the stove, while there was coffee brewing a few feet away from it. He already had stacks of pancakes in the microwave, it seemed, to keep them warm. Bucky's mouth watered at the thought of getting real food in his system so he made himself known by clearing his throat.

Steve looked at him over his shoulder, and flashed him a smile, “Hey, you made it. Grab the pancakes, please? Mind the plate.”

With the warning in his head, Bucky grabbed a towel from the counter and got the plate out. The smell was wonderful. He placed it on the table and Steve directed Bucky to where the honey was. Bucky placed that on the table too. Then he got out the cutlery, and two plates and placed those on the tables.

“Eggs,” Steve said as he placed a new set of plate on the table with eggs by their respective places. “Sit. I'll get the coffee.”

“Thank you,” mumbled Bucky. He sat down and he stomach growled. He frowned in embarrassment, but Steve only chuckled.

“Bon appetite,” said Steve as he sat down by Bucky and placed a hot steamy coffee in front of him.

They ate in silence and Bucky was quick to learn that Steve didn't like talking while he ate. Which suited Bucky fine, because he didn't like talking at all. They cleaned out the plates and drunk their coffees, and Steve placed the dirty plates in the dishwasher.

The boys quickly made their way up the stairs to Steve's bedroom once again. “I've a spare toothbrush,” said Steve as he ducked down to get it from the drawer. Bucky didn't stare at his ass. Even if it was right there. Nope.

“Here,” breathed out Steve as he held up the brush. He quirked up a smile on his lips, which melted Bucky's inside. But he took the brush, trying not to let his fingers touch Steve's, because he knew the minute their skin met, he wouldn't be able to control himself.

They stood side by side, two inches away from one another and brushed their teeth in complete silence. They'd share a look in the mirror, and look away quickly. Bucky's heart was burning with desire, but he couldn't act on them. Wouldn't act on them. Steve deserved better. He deserved someone with whom he could go out with. He deserved to have a meet-the-parents type of shit in his life. Bucky couldn't give him that. He could never give it to anyone...

“Hey,” Steve's voice floated into his mind and Bucky realized that he'd been staring at his brush for some time now. “You okay?”

“Yeah. Yes. Sorry,” he quickly rinsed and cleaned the brush, and placed it by Steve's.

It seemed like Steve wanted to say something, but Bucky quickly left the bathroom. He grabbed his bag. “I'll see you downstairs,” he said and left the bedroom.

His heart was in his throat, beating fast and quick. He just wanted to leave this place and never do this type of shit ever again. His poor heart wouldn't be able to survive this. Bucky grabbed his boots and put them on. He glanced up at the stairs, strained to hear Steve's footsteps, but it was silent. He quickly unzipped his bag and got out more sweaters to wear. He knew he wasn't going to come back here, so he needed to get dressed as warmly as he could. He didn't own much, anyway, so he took out the other two long sleeved shirts that he owned and got them on. He grabbed his hoodie that he left by the door last night and shrugged it on. By the time Steve made his way downstairs, Bucky was ready to leave.

“Ready?” said Steve as he got his boots on.

“Yeah,” replied Bucky, staring at Steve's wool hat. He quirked up an eyebrow and tried not to let his emotions show on his face. Steve looked incredibly cute.

“Mom said, it's pretty cold out,” Steve said with a shrug and an easy smile. He shouldered his bag and they set off out.

Sarah was right. It really was cold out. Bucky placed his hands inside his hoodie's pockets and they both half-run to Steve's car. Steve quickly ran his car and cranked up the heat. When it was warm enough, he rode out of the parking lot.

“So, we’ll meet at Scott's party, right?” Steve asked.

“Yeah. When are you gonna be there?” replied Bucky, trying to keep his hands warm.

“Around 7-ish.”

“Cool,” nodded Bucky. They hit a red light.

“So...”

“So?”

“You never told me what happened to your face?” said Steve, drumming his fingers on the wheel. He sounded casual, but Bucky could hear something else in there.

“I fell.”

“You fell.”

“Yep.”

“You know that I don't believe in that, right?” said Steve. The light turned green.

“Believe it, or not. It's the truth.”

“It didn't look like a bruising from a fall.”

“Yeah well.”

“Buck, you gotta-”

“Just drop it. Please,” Bucky said, loudly. He didn't mean to sound so loud, but he just couldn't help it. “Alright? I'll tell you when I'll want.”

Bucky could see Steve holding the wheel in a tight grip, but he didn't say a word. Bucky knew that Steve was going to ask him about it when he'd get another chance, but for now, Bucky was going to keep the identity of his attacker, a secret. He wasn't going to tell Steve that one of his teammates had been his bully for years. It wasn't like it was going to change. And it wasn't like Steve was going to stand by Bucky's side...

Bucky turned to look at Steve. Would he do that? Would he stand up to his friends because of Bucky?

The car slowed down and Bucky blinked couple of times, to ward off the thoughts. They were at school now. It was time to act as if they didn't know each other. Bucky sighed as he realized that he couldn't get out of the car without drawing an attention to him. Despite it being cold out, the students of the school loved spending their time outside.

“Thanks for the ride,” Bucky said, unbuckling his seatbelt.

“I don't understand why you're not telling me who it was so I can kick their butt to the next millennium,” Steve said, unbuckling his own belt.

Bucky sighed and ran a hand over his face, “Look it's better if you don't know.” Bucky hesitated and added, “And it's better if you act like you don't know me at all.”

Steve instantly flared up. He turned around to stare at Bucky, wide eyed, his mouth open in shock. “I'm sorry, but what!? Act like as if- Are you fucking serious?”

“It's safer that way! Okay?” Bucky snapped at Steve. “If he knows that we're close...”

“Who's he?” Steve asked immediately. “Who's  _he,_  Bucky? If you won't tell me, I swear-”

“What? You swear  _what_?” Bucky was starting to feel frustrated with Steve.

Steve seemed to deflate at Bucky's outburst. His shoulders relaxed and his expression cleared. “I hate bullies,” he said. His voice carrying a heaviness to it that Bucky never heard before. “I don't like bullies. It's something that I feel very strongly about. And if I want to help out my friend because he is in trouble, then I'm gonna try my damnedest to do so.” Steve looked up right into Bucky's eyes. Bucky's mouth dried with the intensity of Steve's look. There was a raw emotion in Steve's eyes that Bucky wanted to see more of. It looked like Steve really cared about him, but this was Bucky. After all, things didn't come in easily for him.

“I can't tell you who it was. I'm sorry.”

And then he got out of the car and promptly slid on an ice and fell on his bum. He heard his name being called out from the car, but his bum felt like it was on fire.

“Are you okay? Buck, talk to me,” Steve was kneeling in front of him. His pants were getting dirty, but he didn't seem like he cared about it. All of Steve's attention was on Bucky, and Bucky didn't know how to feel about it.

“I'm okay,” Bucky breathed out, staring at Steve's worried face. “I'm okay.”

“Let me help you up,” Steve said. He grabbed by Bucky's elbow and pulled him right up in one swift movement. Bucky's stomach swooped down by how strong Steve was. His hand felt warm on his elbow and Bucky wanted nothing more than to nuzzle at Steve's warmness. But instead, he pulled his arm away from Steve and brushed off the snow from his bum.

“I'm fine,” he said and slowly made his way to the trunk of the car. “Open up so I can take out my bike.”

Steve was looking at Bucky with a worried face but he did as Bucky told him. Bucky took out his bike, mumbled his thanks and then slowly made his way back to the front of the car where he got out his bag, shouldered it, and walked up to the school.

Bucky chained up his bike and turned around to continue his walk, but he collided with a solid chest. “Sorry,” he said quickly and looked up to see that it was, once again, Steve. “What?”

“I'm walking to school with you.”

Bucky let out a laugh of disbelief and shook his head, “The hell you are.”

“Stop telling me what to do. Especially when it's connected with you,” Steve snapped at Bucky, his face inches apart from Bucky's, his voice a low hiss. “I want to be with you. And I'll be damned if I won't at least try to make this work. God damn it, Bucky.”

Bucky stared at Steve wide eyed, mouth dry. He didn't know what to say. He really didn't... He never had someone care about him so much that they'd get angry when Bucky pushed them away, to only get right back into his space. It was a weird feeling, and he didn't know what to do with it. He felt like running and hiding, but at the same time, he wanted for Steve to grab his hand, and not allow him to move an inch from his side.

“Why do you keep pushing me away?” Steve whispered to him.

Bucky's eyes roamed over Steve's face, taking in how much he has hurt Steve by his actions. He swallowed and said, “I don't want you to get hurt.”

“I'm willing to get hurt, if it means that you won't push me away anymore,” Steve said, tentatively resting his hand on Bucky's forearm. A shiver ran down Bucky's spine that had nothing to do with the cold. “I want more of you.”

Bucky bit down on his lower lip and, after a small hesitation, he nodded. “Okay... Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Yeah... I just- I don't usually... I'm not-”

“I know, Buck. You don't have to say it,” Bucky looked up at Steve's eyes and he saw nothing, but understanding in there. Steve gave him a small smile. “I know what you mean. One step at a time, yeah?”

Bucky nodded his consent. Steve grinned at him and it was like looking at a shining sun. Steve was so beautiful Bucky felt like crying.

“Hold on to my arm, so you won't slip again,” Steve said as he demonstrated his arm out for Bucky to hold on to. Bucky hid his smile as he grabbed on Steve's arm and they slowly made their way up to the school.

People were staring at them. Bucky didn't like being stared at. He had learned to live by the fact that he was invisible and people didn't notice him. The new guy, in this case it was Steve, was being seen walking with him to school. It could go either way; good or bad. Bucky didn't know, and he was starting to feel lightheaded.

But then Steve grabbed his hand with his gloved one and squeezed his fingers in reassurance. It seemed like Steve knew what was happening in Bucky's head, because he didn't let go off Bucky even when they got inside the school and the front door closed off behind their backs with a snap. Everyone was staring at them, but Steve still held on. And oddly enough, it helped Bucky to concentrate on his breathing. It was going to be a long day.

 

**\-------------------------------------------------- STEVE**

 

Steve adjusted the collar of his navy blue shirt one more time, before he shrugged on his leather jacket. It was still cold out but he could deal with it for a minute, until he'd get to his car. He grabbed his phone from his nightstand and descended the stairs to the floor below.

“Mom, I'm heading out.”

“Hold on! Let me see you!” Sarah rushed out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on a towel. “Turn.”

Steve sighed but he did as she told him. He slowly turned around in a circle to show her what she was wearing. “Good?”

“Very,” she nodded with a smile on her face. “So, where are you meeting up with Bucky?”

“At the party,” Steve said. He grabbed his keys from the table by the door. “He said he'll meet me there.”

“How're things between you two?” Sarah's smile had a bit of an understanding to it.

Steve chuckled shook his head, “It's nothing like that, mom. We're just friends. For now.”

“For now?” she gasped. “So there IS something going on!”

“Well, kinda, yeah. I mean- I want to... And he's just- You know?”

“No, I don't?” she said with a smile on her face. “You can't even finish your sentences. Oh this is so adorable. My little baby boy wants to have a bee-bee!”

“A bee-what?” Steve struggled not to laugh at his mom's face, but she was being ridiculously adorable.

“I don't know what you kids call that these days-”

“A boyfriend.”

“-So I made a new word for it,” she continued, as if Steve didn't interrupt her.

“No, mom. He is not my boyfriend. We're still...testing the water to see what's what.”

“That's so cute.”

“Okay, I'm going now before you'll start squealing like a schoolgirl,” Steve opened the door and stepped out.

“Hey! I can squeal like an adult too!” she yelled after him.

“Bye mom!” Steve closed the door quickly and ran down the stairs to his car. Few seconds later, he was driving off to the party.

 

 

**\---------------------------------------------------**

 

There were way too many people in the tiny apartment that Scott liked to throw his party's at. Steve had to squeeze his way through gaggle of people to get to the kitchen where he knew his friends were hanging around. And he was right to think that, because once he got close enough, he could hear Sam's booming laughter coming from there.

“Hey, it's Steve!” he shouted once they saw him and everyone greeted him with enthusiasm.

“Hey, guys!” he said, smiling from ear to ear. There was a bottle of beer shoved into his hand and he was dragged in into their small circle. Sam was telling them about something that happened to him over the summer holiday. They all knew that he was exaggerating on some parts, but he was good at telling stories so they let him go.

Steve was laughing at something that Clint said to him in a low voice so as to not disturb Sam when his eyes caught a movement from the other side of the room and he saw Bucky stumbling over his legs, his bag bouncing over his shoulders. His cheeks instantly flamed and he closed his eyes to take a deep breath. He then turned around and snapped at someone from behind him. Steve placed his bottle of beer on the counter, excused him from his friends and walked out of the kitchen to see who Bucky was talking to.

He stopped short as he saw who Bucky was talking to. Rumlow had an amused smile on his face and he was talking back at Bucky, gesturing widely with his hands. Steve was too far from them but he quickly made his way to them.

“-sack of shit,” he heard Rumlow say, and his friends roared with laughter. Just as Bucky turned red and he was about to charge forward, Steve grabbed Bucky's arm to stop him.

Bucky turned to him, with a growl, but stopped short when he realized who it was. His chest was heaving and his hair had fallen over his face. His eyes were red-rimmed and he looked tired. Steve would worry about it later. Now, he had to take care of the situation.

“Hey, Stevie,” said Rumlow. His words were a bit slurry, but he seemed steady on his legs. “Come to see the show?”

“I didn't know there was a show to watch. But if it has you in it, I'll pass.”

“Oh no, no,” Rumlow let out a bark of laughter and said. “The  _show_ in question features your pal, your buddy, your  _Bucky_.” He spat out the last word as if it was something nasty. There was the telltale signs of irritation, tickling down Steve's spine as he stood there and stared at the sorry excuse of a human being.

“If I were in your place, I'd walk away, right now.”

“Was that a threat?” Rumlow took a step forward to Steve.

Steve drew himself up to his full weight, and had the little bit of satisfaction of knowing that he could easily beat the living shit out of Rumlow if there would be a fight. They stared into each other's eyes; Rumlow with amusement, Steve with restrained anger.

Steve could feel the itch of wanting to swing, but he wasn't going to do it. Not because he didn't want to, but because there was a soft hand on his forearm, gripping it, and pulling him away from Rumlow.

“Steve, no. He's not worth it,” Bucky said to him in a low voice, gripping at his arm like a lifeline.

Steve turned his head to look at Bucky. His face was hard, but his eyes were pleading him to let this go. In all actuality, Bucky could tell him to do anything and Steve would agree to it in a heartbeat. So, with a slight, reluctance, he looked at Rumlow one more time, his face a mask of clear challenge, and then he turned around, and walked away with Bucky following him.

Steve didn't talk to Bucky on his way to the bedroom, which was thankfully empty. They got in and Steve locked the door after them. The sounds of chatter and the loud music that was playing, was slightly muffled in the bedroom. From the looks of it, it was Scott's bedroom. It had way too many lewd posters on the walls to be anyone's but his. There were too many stuff, haphazardly thrown around the room, which it took Steve a few moments to figure out where the bed was, the walk in closet, and to see a piano at the far side of the room. Which, surprisingly wasn't covered with clothes or something else. Steve wondered what Scott's parents were doing, to allow for their son to throw such parties almost every other week.

“I'm sorry,” he heard Bucky say behind his back, while Steve was looking at the walls of the bedroom. It was a nice room, but it was cluttered with stuff that was making Steve feel uncomfortable. Steve sighed and turned around to look at Bucky.

Bucky was standing a few feet away from him, his hands were crossed over his chest, and he had his head down. Steve walked to him and noticed that Bucky was also biting down on his lower lip. “Hey,” Steve said softly, leaning down a bit to look at Bucky's face. Bucky reluctantly met his eyes. “It's not your fault that the guy is a douche.”

“I didn't mean to cause you any sort of disturbance,” Bucky said, quickly.

“You haven't.”

“I'm still sorry. He's gonna come after your ass,” Bucky's voice was tinted with regret.

Steve gave Bucky a small smile and said, “He can't come after my ass. He isn't my type anyway.”

Bucky's head snapped up and he stared at Steve. It took him a few seconds but he burst out laughing at Steve. “Really?”

“Oh yeah.”

“You're awfully at ease with your... orientation. How come?” asked Bucky, and he looked genuinely curious about it.

Steve sighed and shrugged, “My parents never really made a big deal out of it. Well, mom never cared, to be honest.”

“What happened when you told them? When you came out to them?” asked Bucky. He walked further in the room and sat on the bench by the piano.

“Well, my mom didn't really react much,” Steve said as he walked further in too, and sat at the edge of the bed, facing Bucky. He rested his forearms on his knees and continued, “If I remember correctly, she was making dinner for us, and we were talking about nothing in particular but then she asked me about school and my friends, like she always does. And I told her that I liked this guy from my class, more than the others. She didn't even make a fuss about it, merely told me to ask him over for dinner.”

“That sounds nice,” Bucky replied with a small smile on his lips. “What about your dad?”

“My dad has never been against gay people, but he talks more trash about them, then I'd actually like. But then again, he talks trash about everyone around him, so.”

“Sounds like a charming man.”

“You've no idea.”

They sat in silence, well, as silent as it would get in here, while the party went on hard outside. Steve was staring at Bucky's fiddling fingers that were resting in his lap. He really did have nice hands. And his fingers were long.

“Your fingers are long.”

“Hm?” Bucky asked. He seemed to coming out of his own thoughts. His eyes cleared as he looked down at his fingers. “Oh. Yeah. I guess they are, huh?”

“Good genes?” asked Steve, wanting to get a peek inside Bucky's life without actually prying him.

“Oh no,” there was a sort of sad expression on his face when he said it, but it was quickly replaced with another small smile. “No. The only good genes I got from them are my hair and my eye color.”

Steve wanted to tell him just how much he liked looking into Bucky's eyes because of their color, but he kept it to himself. As to not sound weird.

“What about the hands? I'm sorry,” Steve apologized and chuckled. “I just really like your fingers and I just...”

“No, no. It's okay to ask. I'm a pianist.”

“A what?”

“A pianist. I play the piano. Rather good at it. Well, I  _was_  good at it. But I haven't played for some time now...”

“How long have you been playing?”

“Since I was...” Bucky scrunched up his forehead, in an attempt as to try and remember it. He looked way too damn adorable. “I think I was around five years old.”

Steve raised his eyebrows. “Wow. Did you want to play or was it purely because your parents wanted you to?”

“As far as I know, I wanted to play,” said Bucky turning slightly to the piano and opening up the case.

“How come you stopped playing?” Steve asked softly. He stood up and walked to Bucky.

Bucky looked up at him and shuffled to the side, making a place for Steve to sit by him. Bucky started to press on some keys and Steve's eyes zeroed down on his fingers. It was a soft melody that he never heard of before. It sounded nice. And then Bucky started to sing, and Steve felt his heart literally stop, belly filled with butterflies, and he was short of breath.

“ _Somebody said you got a new friend_  
Does he love you better than I can?  
There's a big black sky over my town  
I know where you're at, I bet he's around...”

Steve fought to breathe and he tried to look away from Bucky's face, but he couldn't. His profile was devoid of any emotion as he played and sang.  
“ _Stilettos and broken bottles_  
I'm spinning around in circles  
And I'm in the corner, watching you kiss him, oh  
I'm right over here, why can't you see me, oh  
And I'm giving it my all, but I'm not the guy you're taking home, ooh  
I keep dancing on my own  
And oh no...”  
His voice wavered slightly as something in his eyes broke. Steve wanted to reach out and comfort him but something held him back. Bucky didn't pick this song at random. Steve was positive about it.

“ _So far away but still so near_  
The lights come up, the music dies  
But you don't see me standing here  
I just came to say goodbye  
I'm in the corner, watching you kiss him, oh  
And I'm giving it my all, but I'm not the guy you're taking home, ooh

_I keep dancing on my own...”_

Bucky turned around and stared right into Steve's eyes as he delivered the last part of the song. __  
“So far away, but still so near  
The lights come up, the music dies  
But you don't see me standing here...”

He stopped playing and rested his hands in his lap. His eyes were shining now, with unshed tears, and there was way too many emotions displayed in his eyes for Steve to read. So the only logical thing for him to do was to close the distance between them.

And he did.

Steve felt like he was being electrocuted. His face felt warm, while his lips felt they were being burnt. His breath had caught in his throat and he released it slowly. It took him a moment, but he realized that Bucky hadn't moved his lips at all. Steve wasn't discouraged from this though. He took matters to his own hands, and moved his lips, slowly, against Bucky's. He then gently cradled Bucky's face in his hands, tilted his head to the side and gently licked at Bucky's lower lip.

Finally, Bucky responded; his breath left through his nose in a gentle whisper against Steve's cheek. His jaw slackened, and his lips parted as he let Steve's tongue to go inside his mouth. Bucky was tense, Steve could feel it. So Steve let his hand wander over the back of Bucky's head, grabbed him by his hair, while his other hand slithered down his chest and rested lightly over his hip, squeezing it gently. Bucky's breath hitched at that.

Bucky's hands were still in his lap, and Steve wanted to feel them on his body. Leaving one hand tangled up in Bucky's hair, the one on Bucky's hip, moved to his left elbow. He caressed Bucky's arm first, and then pulled at it and close towards him. When Bucky let his arm relax, Steve grabbed it and dropped it over his shoulder. Bucky got the message quickly, and he looped his arm around Steve's neck and hesitating, pulled Steve closer.

Steve would cry out in happiness for this, had his lips weren't occupied. He wasn't complaining at all. Since, when Bucky pulled Steve closer to him, he started to kiss Steve back with enthusiasm. When he was shy and hesitant to do anything while Steve was kissing him, this side of Bucky's was something that Steve would want to see more often. It turned out that Bucky was more of a dominant kisser, because soon enough Steve found himself being crashed by Bucky's both arms towards his solid chest. His lips were literally, being assaulted by Bucky's lips as he roughly kissed, and bit, and licked at Steve's lips.

Steve couldn't keep his moaning to himself, so he let out a loud groan just as Bucky's tongue pushed Steve's aside and plunged right into his mouth. Steve thought that they looked like some porn stars, having a filthy kiss in front of the camera, but Steve wouldn't have this any other way. Bucky tightened his hold on Steve's body, and the next thing Steve knew, he was being pushed down on the floor.

Their lips parted for only a fraction of a second, and Steve had a small amount of time to take in as much air as he could, before Bucky  _pounced_ on him on the floor. Steve groaned when Bucky shoved on of his legs aside and placed his leg in between Steve's thighs.

Steve shuddered as he felt just how  _excited_  Bucky was from their kisses. Steve buckled his hips up to let Bucky know that he was excited as well. He hadn't been this hard since he left California. Bucky visibly shuddered as he felt Steve and he bit down on Steve's tongue.

Had Steve been not so into kissing Bucky like this, he'd be embarrassed by the noises that were leaving him. It wasn't like Bucky was complaining. Bucky was more of a grunting type. Steve wanted to hear more, and he hoped that he would in the future.

Eventually, Bucky pulled his lips away and rested his forehead against Steve's. Breathing hard, Steve squeezed Bucky close to his chest, a silent plea for Bucky to not move. Bucky's uneven breaths were fanning over Steve's face and he closed his eyes, enjoying the moment.

Bucky couldn't seem to stop himself from touching Steve's face, and he seemed reluctant to move. Steve didn't have any problem with that. Although, Steve twitched underneath Bucky, and both of them shuddered as their lengths rubbed against each other through their jeans.

“Oh fuck...” Bucky groaned. Without warning he started to move his hips. Steve scrambled up to move his against Bucky's. Steve's lips parted as his breathing elevated again. Bucky's hand moved from Steve's cheek to his neck, and squeezed it softly. Steve practically blacked out as he felt the slight pressure of Bucky's hand.

Bucky seemed to have noticed it, because, not stopping his hip movements, he pulled back to look down at Steve's face. This was probably the first time, in the last few minutes, that they had made eye-contact. A small cry left Steve's lips as he saw just how flushed and debauched Bucky looked, his hair was cascading over his face and his eyes were dark with arousal. And he never looked as hot and beautiful as he looked right now.

There was a silent question in his eyes as he pressed more on Steve's neck, and answered him by craning his neck back, to give Bucky more access. So Bucky gave Steve what he wanted; he squeezed down on Steve's neck a bit harder. Steve moved his hands down Bucky's back and squeezed his ass cheeks, and pulled Bucky closer to his body. Bucky grunted at this and squeezed down harder on Steve. They moved a bit faster now, and it took Steve a moment to realize he was going to come in his pants, but he wasn't going to stop. Not now, when Bucky started to kiss him filthily, not now when Bucky's breathing got heavier, his movements getting the tad edge of desperation to them. And definitely, not now when Steve's breath got caught in his throat and his vision wavered just as he came in his pants. He let out a low cry and didn't register Bucky biting down at the base of his neck, on his pulse point, as he too, shuddered through his orgasm.

Bucky's hand moved from Steve's neck to his cheek and he dropped more heavily on top of Steve. And Steve, still breathless, turned his head and started to kiss Bucky's slightly damp cheek. His hands wouldn't stop wandering over Bucky's back. Squeezing and pulling Bucky close to him. He'd been waiting something similar to this to happen for them, and now it has and Steve was reluctant to let Bucky go. It seemed that the feeling was mutual, because Bucky shifted a bit and rested his head on Steve's shoulder.

He didn't know how long they laid there, but eventually they had to move. Bucky moved back to sit on his heels and Steve sat up in front of him. Bucky started to fix his hair. Putting it back up in a messy ponytail. Once he was done, Steve noticed that Bucky wasn't looking at him. Not liking the feeling that he felt inside, he cradled Bucky's cheek once more and pulled his face towards him. He laid small kisses at the corner of Bucky's lips and didn't pull away until Bucky's lips twitched into a half smile. His chest eased down and he pulled away, smiling at Bucky.

Bucky smiled back at him, but then it vanished and he looked down again. Steve touched his hand this time and asked. “What's wrong?”

Bucky shook his head and then sighed, “I... I haven't done this. Before. Not-not to this extent, at least.”

It took Steve a moment to figure out what Bucky just said. “Oh.” Steve said as he looked down at their hands. It wasn't like Steve's sex life was in flying colors, since he was a teenager himself and he had couple of partners in the past, in Cali. But Bucky seemed self-conscious about the whole ordeal so Steve, as a way of answering, kissed Bucky softly on the lips once more. He held on to the kiss as much as he could, before he eased away and found Bucky's eyes fluttering open.

“I liked whatever you did to me,” Steve said as he held eye contact. Letting Bucky know that he wasn't lying.

Bucky's lips twitched into an almost smile but then he grimaced and said, “We can't have this. Not now.”

Steve blinked at the abrupt change of the subject. “Buck?”

“I'm not the type of a guy that you should be with, Steve.”

“Buck, what-”

Bucky stood up and brushed his hands over his wrinkled shirt. Steve stood up quickly. “We can't be together. There can't be an 'us' for us.”

Steve felt like he had been dumped into a cold water by this confession. It took everything in him to not go into a panic attack right then and there. “What are you saying? We are great together.”

“It's just an illusion.”

“Illusion to what?” asked Steve. He knew he was close to yelling, but he didn't care. He felt the first wave of panic go through his veins. And he tried to breathe that back in, but there wasn't enough air in this small room.

“I'm leaving, Stevie.”

Steve stopped breathing altogether. “What.” He croaked out. There was a ringing in his ears that had nothing to do with the music playing outside this bedroom.

“I spoke to Gwen. There is an opportunity for me to leave this dump and everything behind.”

“Everything?”

“It's a great opportunity for me to make a name for me.”

“ _Everything?”_ repeated Steve, his voice low. Hollow. Small.

Bucky looked into Steve's eyes and Steve could see nothing in them. No malice, no hatred, no warmth... nothing.

“I can't stay in a place where I'm not happy, Stevie.”

“I can make you happy,” Steve said, his voice choked up from held back tears and emotions. He knew his words meant nothing, because if they would, Bucky would warm up and tell him that he didn't mean any of the words that left his mouth.

But Bucky didn't, he just grabbed his bag by the door, and said, “I can't make  _you_  happy, Steve.”

And then he just left.

Steve thought that heartbreak came in stages. It came in desperate crying, clawing at the person's feet, begging them not to leave, crying when they didn't hear them, and then numbness as they realized the person left them behind with nothing but a heartache.

For Steve, it went straight to numbness.

Steve's heart didn't ache.

He slowly sat back down on the floor, his back against the bed. He curled his legs up to his chest and stared at the far wall. Not even knowing what to do now. Had what happened few minutes ago was real, or was it his desperate imagination to have something with Bucky?

The dampness in his pants and the throbbing on his neck from Bucky's bite, indicated that no, it wasn't a dream. But reality.

The reality came crashing down on him and he shuddered once as his eyes filled with tears. He didn't fight them as they escaped his eyes, and he didn't stop the sounds that left his lips as his heart started to beat heavier in his chest...

He felt completely boneless and helpless at that moment, and he didn't know what to do with himself as fresh bout of tears clouded his eyes and he cradled his head in his hands, as he let the pain consume his thoughts.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Should I hide? ._.
> 
> Leave your thoughts in the comments please! Thank you :)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes, not everything is meant to be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is! The last chapter to this small story :)  
> I hope you had fun while reading it. Thanks to all of you, whoever read, commented, left kudos.
> 
> Enjoy!

 

**Part 3**

**\------------------------------Bucky**

Oh God it hurt.

It hurt so badly.

Bucky doubled over and heaved in deep breaths of fresh, cold air. His eyes were blurry and he couldn’t see the ground below. The street lamps were dimmer than usual, but it was dark out already. He grabbed onto the building’s wall, and tried to steady his breathing as he slid down and sat on the cold hard ground, curling his legs up towards his chest, and resting his arms over his knees. He rested his forehead on his forearms and tried to calm his breathing down this way, but to no avail. It wasn’t working.

He thought that it would be easy to leave Steve behind. He thought it would be easy to tell him that he had to go and Steve would let him. He didn’t think that Steve cared enough about him to look so hurt as if he had physically stabbed his heart out. It probably would’ve hurt less than what Bucky had done.

They had kissed. Made out. Practically had sex on the bedroom floor. And then Bucky broke Steve’s heart and left.  _Stupid, stupid, stupid._

It wasn’t getting easier for him to breath. On the contrary, it was getting harder to breathe. He felt like there was something clogged up in his throat that was making it harder for him to draw in breaths. “Get a grip,” he whispered to his chest, roughly, his voice hitching. A fresh bout of tears spilled out of his eyes. He bit down on his lower lip to prevent himself from crying out loud, but he couldn’t stop. Once it started, he couldn’t keep his tears at bay.

He knew he had to move in a few minutes so he could go and say goodbye one last time, before he left. But his legs wouldn’t cooperate with him. They felt like jellies to him, but he had to move, or he'd be late. Bucky pushed himself up and slowly made his way down the road.

It took him awhile and a few resting points on his way, but he finally managed to get to his destination. By the time he got here, he stopped crying. His eyes were dry. He sat on his usual bench in front of the building, secretly glad that it wasn't close yet, although, some employees were leaving the building already. And Bucky hoped he wasn't late.

He rubbed at his with the back of his hand and then looked up just in time.

Becca never looked this pretty as she did now. Her long black hair was in curls, and she was wearing a red dress with a short coat on. She had a makeup, so it meant that she was going to attend to a party, or an event. She was never one to be seen with a full on makeup, that's how he knew that she had an occasion.

He has never approached her, whenever he'd come here after school. He'd sit here, on this bench, right across the street from the building and look at her until her car would pull up and she'd get in and drive off. She was talking on the phone now, and she had a big smile on her face. Maybe she was talking to a friend? Maybe she was talking to a boyfriend? And her car should've been here by now, but it was running late.

Making up his mind on the spot, Bucky stood up and slowly made his way to her.

“...I'm waiting right outside!” she was saying to whoever was on the other end of the phone. Her voice sounded light and had a tinkle to it. She had a goofy smile on her face, this close, and Bucky's heart started to beat a bit faster. “Okay. I'll be waiting.”

She ended the call and looked down at her phone, her smile still in place, shaking her head. Bucky walked closer to her. That's when she looked up and did a double take, clutching her phone closer to her. Bucky might have looked like the hobo that he was, but her reaction hurt a bit more than he'd like to admit. He wondered, once again, what had Steve seen in him to want him so badly?

“May I help you?” she asked Bucky. Her voice polite but there was an edge to it as well.

Bucky took a deep breath and said, “Hey, sis. Long time no see, eh?”

Bucky nervously waited for her to recognize him. He didn't move much, only raised his hand to loop a loose hair over his ear. He gave her a tight-lipped smile and her eyes widened in recognition.

“Oh my God,” she whispered. Bucky had no time to react before she tugged him into an embrace. Her arms were strong around him and Bucky felt the familiar warmth of her big sister, hugging him close as if her life depended on it. “Oh my God!” she kept whispering frantically, while tightening her hold on him. Bucky hugged her back, just as tight.

“You're alive!” she whispered and released him. Holding him by his shoulders, at an arm’s length, she looked at him, up and down. Her eyes widened furthermore, if it was possible. “Why are you dressed like this?”

Bucky frowned, his eyes down looking at the ground, and then shrugged. “Life hasn't been easy.”

“I thought you were lost. I thought you were...”

She didn't continue, but her eyes water a bit and Bucky had to take a deep steadying breath to not cry himself. She shook her head and said, “Where do you live? Are you okay at least?”

It's Bucky's turn to shake his head. “I'm not... I'm not okay, but I will be soon. Hopefully.”

“Where have you been living?” she asked again, this time a bit forcefully. She released his shoulders, but didn't move back.

“Just… uhm… around. You know… central park’s very nice at night,” he chuckled and rubbed the back of his neck as he felt himself blush. The look in his sister's eyes was something that he’d go without witnessing; they were filled with horror and sadness and anger over this. He knew that she'd be like this, and he knew that had he been smart, he could've easily asked her help for this, but he never had. Thinking that dad would probably disown her too because she'd been helping Bucky. Having this in mind, he didn't bother contacting her.

“You can't be serious?” she said, her voice low and thick. Bucky didn't bother with an answer, instead he just shrugged and looked around the street.

“I came by to say good bye.”

“What? Why?” she said, her eyes widening in alarm.

“I've gotten this offer from a friend of mine.”

“What offer? Is it safe?”

“Yeah, it is safe,” Bucky nodded. “Uhm I know her from school. She works there. She kinda knew about my condition, but I never told her how bad it was for me. Because I didn't want anyone else to know about it. Her boyfriend's aunt owns this cafe close to the cinema, and I go there sometime to clean up for some cash. That's how she knew about me,” Bucky nodded and licked his lips. “So one day, when I went there for a job, she said that Peter, that's her boyfriend, knows this rich guy who lives in NY. Well, his wife has these small side businesses that she owns, and she wanted a hard working volunteer to send out to Chicago.”

“What sort of business is it?”

“Well, it's more like a shelter for LGBT+ kids?”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. They wanted to branch out and they were recruiting volunteers, for now. So Peter told Tony about me. I've to leave by tomorrow for NY.”

“What's his name? Full name?” Becca asked, the wind has picked up a bit and it was making her hair swirl around her. She looked very beautiful.

“I don't know if you know him, but his name's Tony Stark?”

She seemed to recognize him because she nodded and said, “Oh. I know Stark. He's friendly, if he wants to be. But sometimes he can't be a total dick.”

Bucky let out a snort of laughter, “Yeah, that's what Gwen said too. But I'm willing to try. I need to do something. Now that I'm on my own...”

“Why didn’t you ever contact me, Winter?” the old nickname made Bucky shudder and close his eyes.

~

_As a younger version of him ran around their courtyard, a teenager Becca ran after him. Laughing and chasing one another in the middle of winter. Bucky was only wearing a thing sweater with his jeans and boots on. Becca wanted to get his winter coat on, until their mom saw him like that and would definitely ground him. Becca didn't want that for him._

“ _Winter! Wait! Come here!”_

“ _You're never gonna catch me!” Bucky had yelled back and breaking on a faster ran, he didn't see the rock under the snow. His foot caught it and he fell right into the snow._

_It didn't hurt. He turned on his back and started to giggle. He was starting to get a bit cold now, but he didn't have it in him to yell out for his sister. He was having too much fun._

_Becca caught up with him, fast, and she tugged him up and off the ground. She dusted the snow off of his body, muttering under her breath. But Bucky didn't care. She was feeling happy that day. It was always good to play with Becca like this._

_~_

“I thought father contacted you, after I ran away. I didn't want to be an inconvenience to you. Not when I angered father like that.”

“Oh, Bucky...”

“I know, I know,” Bucky agreed with a shake of his head. “I was a fool. I should've contacted you sooner than leaving it on the last day.”

“Yeah you should've.”

A black sleek car approached the curb and out came a handsome man, with a sharp suit. While his strides were confident, his approach was cautious, unsure.

“It's alright,” Becca said and she walked to him. Winding her arm around his waist, she kissed his cheek in a greeting. His face softened fractionally, his eyes shining in affection, and Bucky had to look away from it. It was too soon to see that sort of PDA. She grabbed him by his hand and walked him back to where Bucky was standing.

“Buck, this is my husband, Jim,” she introduced the man, Jim, to Bucky. “Jim, this is my brother.”

Jim turned to look at her and then back at Bucky. “Oh?”

“Pleased to meet you,” Bucky said, extending his hand.

“Pleasure's mine,” Jim gripped his hand, tight. Good. “I thought you were...”

“Yeah, I know. Pretty sure not.”

“Obviously,” Jim replied with a smile. He looked surprised and happy all at once. It seemed like he was completely smitten by Becca, because this reaction heartwarming. “Are you coming with us too? I'd love it if you would.”

Bucky looked at their clothes,  _expensive_  clothes, and then looked down at his tattered clothes. Swallowing hard, he shook his head and said, “I can't. I just came by to say good bye to my sister and-”

“You're leaving?” Jim asked, now frowning.

“Yeah, he's leaving tomorrow for NY, and then probably going to move to another State. If everything goes as planned?” she directed her last sentence to Bucky, for clarification.

Bucky nodded and said, “Yeah. Uhm... I'm sorry to just show up like this. I didn't think...”

“No, no! It's okay. Really,” Jim said, wrapping an arm around Becca. “It would've been nice if you could join us for a drink. Or rather, at least a small bite.”

“Wherever you're going, I'm pretty sure they wouldn't allow me to come in looking like this,” Bucky said, aiming for a joke, but he was suddenly feeling choked up.

Was he doing the right thing?

“We can totally ditch the party,” Jim said, flapping his hand about.

“We can?” asked Becca looking up, surprised, at her husband.

“You can?” asked Bucky at the same time, staring at him feeling surprised.

“Of course!” Jim said enthusiastically, with a blinding smile. “We can go to somewhere where we can have good food  _and_  have a normal conversation. You did say you were leaving tomorrow, right?”

“Yes?”

“You still have time to hang around, right? Come on, say yes. The night is, after all, a little young. For now.”

Bucky bit down on his lower lip and looked at Becca. She had a pleading look on her face, and her eyes were shining with hope. Unable to say  _no_ to that, Bucky found himself nodding.

“Yay!” she crowed and reached out to grab Bucky's arm and they all moved back to Jim's car.

Bucky got his bag off of his shoulders first, shoved it in the car, before he sat beside it. He grabbed on the side of it. Just a small reassurance.

“I'm so glad we aren't going,” Becca said from the front of the car as Jim started his car.

Jim laughed and said, “Oh, I know.”

“Seriously,” Becca said, and her voice sounded a bit strained. Bucky tilted to the side to see what she was doing and... Huh? “My heels are killing me. I'm so glad for these heel changing shoes.”

“Heel changing what now?” Bucky asked. He shuffled close to the front and saw as his sister changed the high heels of her shoes to a flatter ones.

“Voila!” she said and smiled back at him.

“Brilliant,” he replied, feeling completely baffled and smiling at her.

They drove for a while, and talked about nonsense. Bucky learned that they'd been going out for years now, even before Bucky left his house, but he never knew because she never told anyone. They'd been married for couple of years now. No children, yet. But they weren't trying anyway.

“We're still young,” she had said and Jim had nodded. “We have plenty of time.”

Bucky loved their love.

**\------------------------------------**

 

The cafe that they ended up agreeing to go to was a bit expensive. Bucky was having a hard time choosing something from the menu, because the price tags where ludicrous. It took both Jim and Becca to convince him to order whatever he wanted without worrying about the price. At all.

So he ended up getting a large portion of potato soup, steak, and macaroni. He was hungry. Especially now when there was still that hollow feeling deep in his chest after his stupid break up with Steve. It really was stupid. Bucky placed down his spoon and rubbed a hand over his face.

“You alright?” asked Becca, in a low voice.

Bucky leaned over on the table, curling his arms at the edge. He shook his head and sighed. “I... I did something extremely stupid.”

“Talk to me,” Becca said, leaning forward. Her face open and inviting for him to talk. Jim discreetly took out his phone and started to go through it; giving them their own privacy, in a way.

“I... There was this guy. At school. He was new. He just moved back to Brooklyn and he's going to the same school as I do.”

“Sorry, one sec. Can I say something?” Becca interrupted him, and he nodded. “I was extremely stupid.”

“Why?” Bucky felt puzzled at this. What was she getting at?

“I never actually thought about looking for you at school,” she said, lowering her eyes a bit. She looked embarrassed. “I thought you would take off. And I never bothered to go there.”

“Becca-”

“I'm sorry,” she said quickly. Looking back at him with round eyes, she looked sincere. “It's not because I didn't care about you-”

“I know that you cared, Bec.”

“I just never thought-”

“I know,” Bucky said with a smile. “I know. And it's okay. Apology accepted. Moving on?”

Becca looked unsure for a beat, but then she smiled back and nodded.

“Anyway... There was this new guy at school. And before he showed up, I made a point of not being friends with anyone, because I didn't want them to know about me.”

“Oh Bucky... what happened?”

“I had to leave him today. Before I came to see you. I... I broke up with him.”

“Did he find out about you? Is that why?”

But Bucky shook his head and his cheeks colored in embarrassment. “I broke up with him so he wouldn't find out.”

“Bucky...”

“I know. It's all wrong. Horribly wrong. But I couldn't find it in me to tell him and then let him go just like that. He'd reject me, and I'd have to deal with it. It's better this way,” even when Bucky said it to will himself that he made the right decision here, something heavy in his chest, wasn't agreeing with him. At all.

“You're incredibly stupid. Unless the guy is a douche?”

“Oh no,” Bucky chuckled, remembering Steve's kind eyes in his mind. His throat got thick, suddenly. He cleared his throat and said, “No. He's... he's not a douche. He's like, the complete opposite of that word. He's... he's sunshine on a gloomy Sunday morning. A smile so bright, that it hurts your eyes, but at the same time, you can't look away...” Bucky fell silent after that, staring down into his soup, trying to squish down the hurt that was clogging up his senses like poison.

“He sounds beautiful,” Becca said, her voice gentle.

“I broke him. I know I have. But it's for the best.”

Becca didn't say anything to that. There was nothing to say. They gradually moved on from that subject to their jobs, and what they were doing, or going to do in the next years to come. They had a great time, but it was almost time for Bucky to leave. Jim paid for everything, and asked the waiter to get Bucky's food in a takeaway bag. Bucky wanted to protest, but Becca silenced him with a look.

The ride back to Aunt May's diner was a silent one. A song was playing from the radio, but Bucky wasn't paying attention to it. His mind was calmer than before. He was still hurting, but... this evening turned up good in the end. He never thought he'd be able to talk to his sister, have dinner with her, and her husband.

Bucky felt at ease with Jim. Knowing that he'd take care of his sister, no matter what.

Jim parked right in front of the diner and Bucky got out. Gwen was starting to close up already and Bucky knew he had to go in and help her out. He placed his bag by the diner's window and rapped on it, getting her attention. She looked up and waved at him, with a pleased smile on her lips. Bucky held up a finger to her, indicating that he'd be in soon, and turned around to look at Becca.

She and Jim were standing few feet away from her and Becca gave him a watery smile. Bucky sighed sadly and stepped forward. Quickly, she wrapped her arms around him and hugged him as close and tight as she could. Bucky returned her hug fiercely.

“I don't want you to go off on me like that again, Winter. You hear me?” she said. Her voice was trembling slightly. Bucky's lower lip quivered, but he nodded. One final squeeze and she moved back. She quickly brushed away her tears, but she smiled at Bucky. “I love you,” she said, looking deeply into his eyes. To make him know that she wasn't joking. That she was being serious.

Bucky bit down on his lower lip as to not cry. He nodded and said, “I love you too Beccs.”

“Do you have a phone?” she asked quickly.

Bucky shook his head, “No. I had to sell mine to... you know.”

Becca's forehead creased with worry, but she nodded anyway. “Yeah I know. Sorry... uhm... take my card then? And write me, or call me, whenever you get the chance. Okay?”

She handed over her card and he slipped it inside his jeans pocket. He'd make sure to get it securely in his bag so he wouldn't lose it. They stood there, staring at one another. Bucky memorized her face, because he didn't know if he'd ever get the chance to see her again. She really did look beautiful.

“Okay,” Bucky said and turned around to grab his bag from the ground.

“Call me,” she reminded him again when he turned back around.

“I will. I promise. Once I get settled in, I'll see how I can get a hold of you.”

She kept staring at him with round eyes. Bucky dropped his bag down again and seized her into a tight hug. This one had a sort of finality to it, and Bucky had to squeeze his eyes shut because he wanted to remember this moment for as long as he could.

“I promise I'll write or call you every day,” Bucky whispered to her. It was more of a reassurance for them both, then anything else.

She nodded against his neck and after a moment of more hugging, they pulled back. Her eyes were glistening with unshed tears and Bucky felt something tight settle over his chest. “I should've approached to you sooner. I'm sorry I didn't.”

“I'm sorry I didn't search for you,” Becca said and the tears spilled out of her eyes. “I'm so sorry, Winter.”

“Hey, hey,” Bucky said and reached up to wipe away the tears. “It's alright. I'm not blaming you. You should know that, yeah?” Bucky looked into her eyes, slowly nodding at her, so she'd do the same. She let out a small chuckle, that was more like a sob than anything else, but she nodded. Satisfied, Bucky released her and turned to Jim. He held out his hand and Jim shook it; identical smiles on their faces.

“Take care, yeah?” Jim said, releasing his hand.

“Take care of  _her,_ ” Bucky said, nodding his head at his sister's direction.

“Hey! I can take care of myself!” Becca exclaimed indignantly.

“Of course, babe. Nobody's saying you can't,” Jim said reassuringly, but his voice held a slight amusement to it. Becca caught it, and rolled her eyes. She muttered something unintelligible under her breath, but Bucky didn't pry.

He'd give everything he had to have a bit longer with his sister, but he had to go back. He had to go in and help Gwen out with the diner, and get the money that he'd usually got from helping out, and then find a place for the night.

Bucky took his bag off the ground, and walked to the doors of the diner. Before he got in, he turned around and waved at his sister. She waved back and blew him a kiss. He fake caught it in the air and placed his hand over his heart. It made Becca crack a laugh for him, which made it easier for Bucky to turn his back on her and go inside.

“Hey,” he said, and his voice sounded weird for him. Gwen looked up from the counter. She was counting the day's sum of money. As she looked at Bucky, her voice softened.

“You okay?” she asked, before continuing with her counting.

“Yeah, I just need a moment to... you know,” Bucky ran a hand over his face and sighed. He walked further in and dropped his bag by the bar. He sat up on the bar stool and rested his face over his hands.

“If you wanna talk...” Gwen left it at that, but Bucky nodded his head, to let her know that he heard her.

But he couldn't make the words to come out of his mouth. Thinking about what he did couple of hours ago, made him sick to the stomach. He was a terrible person. How could he have done this to Steve? Out of everyone in Bucky's life, Steve deserved this the least. The guy was practically salivating over Bucky, for some odd fucking reason, but Bucky couldn't return his feelings. Just because of the trash-bin that he was. He wasn't worth Steve.

Steve deserved better. Steve deserved everything that was pure and kind and soft. He didn't need rough and unkind and sloppy. Let alone a person who ran away after having a heavy make out session. Who does  _that?_ Bucky was ashamed of himself. He thought he was a better person than this, but he was clearly mistaken.

“Okay,” said Gwen as she sat down beside him. “Talk.”

Bucky turned his head to look at her. His eyes were blurry and he realized that he had been silently crying. He hadn't even felt it. “Sorry,” he sniffed, but didn't move from his miserable position.

“Don't apologize, honey. Talk. What happened? Who were those people?”

Bucky sniffed again and cleared his throat; he suddenly felt really tired. “The girl is my sister, and the man is her husband.”

“Wait,  _your_ sister?” Gwen's eyebrows shot up in surprise. “How did she find you?”

“She was never lost, actually. I found her.”

“What?”

“I always knew where she was, but I never talked to her, because I was scared of what could happen to her if my father find out I was talking to her.”

“Your dad's a real peace of work, isn't he?”

“You have no idea,” Bucky chuckled and shook his head. He and Gwen weren't best of friends, but she had been helping him out a lot lately. So he felt safe enough to talk to her about this. And she did find him this job so...

“But something else got you this way,” she stated, rather than asked.

Bucky nodded again and turned his head back to his hands. He groaned and said, “I don't know what I was thinking. Or how I was thinking.”

“Talk to me. What happened?”

Bucky hesitated at first, but then he thought that he didn't have anything to lose, so he started talking. And he started he couldn't stop. He told Gwen about how he saw Steve first, what their conversation was like, and then how Steve started to notice him more and more. And how they had their pizza together. And they watched a movie, how he ran out of there as fast as he could... and finally he told her about what happened hours ago, and he couldn't stop the tears that were pouring down his face. He felt so hurt, and angry, and upset at him for doing this to Steve.

“You could go to him and tell him, you know?” Gwen said, in a soft voice.

Bucky shook his head and said, “No. I can't. I broke him. I... I probably embarrassed him as well. I'm such a loser.”

“You're not a loser. An asshole, yes. But a loser, no,” she said. Bucky chuckled at that, but it made him cry again.

“I lost him.”

Gwen didn't answer to it. She probably thought that it was a lost cause on Bucky, or that he was right. Either way, Bucky was glad to get nothing from her but a sympathetic hand on his shoulder as he cried his heart out in the darkened diner.

Much later into the night, Bucky helped Gwen to finish closing up. Peter came in to help them out. He shot one look in Bucky's direction, but Gwen shook her head at him. So Peter didn't ask, didn't prod. He just helped them out, keeping quiet.

In the end, Gwen and Peter sat at one of tables, while Bucky took care of the dishes, dusted off the shelves and such, did the floor and then joined them with a mug of coffee.

“When are we leaving tomorrow?” he asked, once he had enough of them staring at him as if he was going to break down. He was sure that Gwen told him about what happened. He didn't mind, so long Peter wouldn't start talking about it.

“Around 4 pm,” said Peter. He had a few days off from school because of Thanksgiving week so he was going to take Bucky to NY.

“Okay, that's cool.”

“Nervous?” Gwen asked him. He smiled back in return. “Don't be. Pepper is a great mentor and she knows what she's doing. She's gonna train you well.”

“What about Stark?”

“He's more like a 5 year old, trapped in a 35 year old's body. You'll do fine.”

“What if they won't like me?” he asked in a low voice. What was he going to do then? Have his hopes up like this but in the end, it wouldn't matter because they didn't want him around? That would suck.

“They will. They know I only send out the best,” she had a hint of smugness in her voice.

“Aw that's nice of you,” Bucky mocked her for that.

“Dick,” she said, punching him in the arm, but she was smiling as well.

It was almost 3 am in the morning, when Bucky was finally able to leave, after making sure that every space was spotless. The pay of the night was a bit higher than before. And he tried to argue with Gwen over it, but then Peter started to mock argue back at him and in the end, Bucky started to laugh at Peter because he was mimicking the way he was talking to Gwen.

Bucky clutched the load of cash in his hand and felt a smile play at the corners of his lips. It wasn't too cold tonight, but he still felt a shiver ran down his spine as he made his way to the local park. He hoped that he could find a bench to sleep on tonight. It was probably going to be his last night sleeping on the park benches.

As he found one he took out the quilt that a stranger gave to him all those months ago, and he wrapped it around his legs, and some around his upper body. Feeling tiny bit warmer now, he laid back down on the bench, used his bag as a pillow, and stared up at the dark sky. He didn't see any stars, but he could see the clouds. That was pretty enough.

It didn't take him long to fall asleep; feeling drained and tired from the day's emotional roller-coaster. Tomorrow was a new day, and it was going to change his life as well. He just hoped that he'd survive the new changes.

 

 

**\---------------------------------------Steve**

 

Aunt Peggy's house was as big and old as Steve remembered it. It was a bit out of town so they had to wake up early and drive up there, while trying to stay awake in the duration of the ride. Sarah has tried to talk to Steve; making light conversations now and again, but she didn't get much response from him. Steve was looking out of the window, not talking, not even acknowledging her presence.

Sarah had sighed and gave up on him for the next hour and a half of the ride.

They were here now and Steve helped his mom to bring in the casserole and the pies she made for today.

Sarah knocked on the door and minutes later, Sharon opened it. Her blonde hair was as straight and boring as Steve remembered it being. But she smiled brighter and it didn't have that cocky little smirk to it anymore. That was a good start.

“Hi, aunt Sarah,” she said and she sounded enthusiastic. Maybe Steve wouldn't get bored here today.

“Hello Sharon, how have you been?” Sarah asked as she was ushered inside by Sharon.

“Hey,” Steve said in a low voice, and she gave him a smile.

Sharon and Steve had never been best of pals, since their childhood. There was a sort of unspoken rivalry between them as they constantly competed for Aunt Peggy's attention. And years after that, they stumbled on each other and they still didn't get along. Till today, Steve had no idea what caused them to be this way, by the looks of it, not even Sharon knew what caused them to be this way. Either way, Steve hoped that they wouldn't get into a fight because he really didn't have the energy for it.

“Aunt Peggy's in the kitchen,” she said to Sarah and they went to the back of the house, where the kitchen was.

The house in itself was a historical one, and it had been Aunt Peggy's late husband's. He had been British too so it had some elements to it too, that Steve had liked to stare at when he was younger. Now, not so much.

“Steve Rogers, come here right now.”

Steve jumped as he heard his name being called. He was zoning out way too much these days and he didn't like it. He plastered on a smile, and made his way to her. It was more of a grimace, than anything else, and she saw through his bullshit, but she didn't comment on it. She just crashed him into a big hug, and something eased down in his chest. He sighed in relief and returned her hug.

He had missed her.

Her hair was graying in the roots, her face and hands had wrinkled, but she still had those smart, sharp eyes that could see through everyone's faultiness. And as she scanned Steve from head to toe, her lips twisted in a mild disapproval. He knew that she was going to talk to him about this. And he had no choice, but to answer her questions.

“Are you alright?” she asked. He could hear the slight accent tilt in her voice. No wonder she had one, since she did marry an English man.

“I will be. It doesn't matter, aunty,” Steve replied, trying to give her a reassuring smile.

She didn't buy it, but merely nodded at him. The subject was dropped for now, in favor of preparing food for the evening. It was going to be a long day, Steve knew. What with family gathering in Aunt Peggy's house for Thanksgiving. Steve had to pretend that he remembered what his fourth cousin's name was, or how well his third cousin was doing in his basketball team.

He just needed for the day to be over so he could go home and be a miserable teen who had his fucking heart broken. Yet again.

It wasn't supposed to be this way anyway. They didn't even date. They didn't even go out. They had some sort of absurd conversations in between classes, and spent their time in Steve's house. Never going to his house or talk about his family and experience with growing up. They barely even knew each other. And then Steve went ahead and let his emotions get the best of him, and here he was. Heartbroken...

So why was Steve feeling this way? What was so great about Bucky that made Steve ache for him in the best, worst way?

Dinner was spent in a loud conversations, from this side of the table to the other side of it. Dinner plates were being passed in front of Steve like nobody's business. His mom was talking to at least 3 people in different ways. Steve was sitting right in front of Sharon. Pretty unfortunate really.

There was a kick on his leg under the table and he looked up, sharply. He frowned at Sharon. She cocked her head to the side and asked. “Why are you keeping so quiet today?”

“None of your business,” he replied, frowning back down at his peas. He liked peas. But they tasted like mashed potatoes.

“I'm as bored as you are at this dinner party, so entertain me.”

“My life story isn't something that should be an entertainment to you.”

“What's gotten your knickers in a twist, bro?”

“I'm not your  _bro_ , and I'd appreciate it if you kept it to yourself.”

“Oh come now. Don't be such a spoil sport.”

“I'm not. I'm just asking you to leave me alone.”

“Why? Did something happen that hurt your wittle feelings?”

Steve looked back at her; his eyes blazing in anger. Wrong move. With her gleeful smile on her face, he knew that she got him.

“So. What happened?” she asked sweetly, perching her head on her fist and staring at him with a quirked up eyebrow.

“Mind your own business.”

“Did someone hurt you?” she asked. Steve didn't reply, but his heart was beating faster, he knew that he was a second away from shouting. “They have, haven't they? Was it a girl?” she tilted her head to the side and then slowly said, “Or was it a boy?” Steve's face blanked out and then she was laughing at him. “It  _was_  a boy, wasn't he? What, he broke up with you? Broke your little heart?” she tsked. “Aww, you poor baby.”

“You mind your own fucking business, Sharon Carter. Or I swear to fucking God I will tear you a new one.”

He stopped talking a second too late. He hadn't realized that his voice had gone from low to high real fast, real quick. Hadn't realized that he was standing up and looming forward. Hadn't realized that in his anger, his water glass had been shattered into tiny pieces in his hand.

The whole table had gone quiet and they were all staring at him in mild surprise.

He had done it again.

He'd been so good, before. He was able to keep his anger in check and hadn't had an 'episode' for a long while now. He looked down at a couple of cuts he had on his hand due to the glass. He swallowed. Add another thing on his growing list of fuck ups he had done since he was born.

“Excuse me,” he mumbled and pushed his chair away from the table and walked out of the living room. He was about to leave for the bathroom when he stopped short. The hair at the back of his neck stood up in anger and disgust as he saw who was standing in front of him.

“Oh. Hello son,” his father said. He has grown a bit older than the last time Steve had seen him. But he still made Steve's stomach twist in displeasure.

“Fuck off,” he bit out through gritted teeth and shoulder-passed him. He took two steps at a time as he ran up the stairs and to the bathroom there. He heard his mom's voice calling out his name, but he didn't care.

Steve went inside the bathroom and closed the door after him. He locked it for precaution. Under the bathroom light he saw that the cuts weren't deep, but he was still bleeding. He got the water running and cleaned up the blood as best as he could.

Steve then opened up the mirror cabinet and got out some band-aids. It wasn't the first time he'd had this type of injury because of his anger. One time he broke his fingers because of how angry he got over something... he didn't remember what it had been.

Sighing, he patched himself up as much as he could. His hands were shaking and he took steadying breaths.

It had been a week since he last saw  _him_. And there wasn't any news from Bucky. He didn't see him at school, he didn't see him around town. Gwen was keeping quiet and to herself. As much as Steve had begged her, she didn't budge. He was heartbroken, to say the least. He wanted to know if Bucky was okay, if he was alive, but he got nothing. He had no one on his side on this.

He curled his fingers in in anger, and he breathed in and out through his nose, trying to calm himself down.

A knock on the door stopped him from punching his face in the mirror. Taking another calming breath, he unlocked the latch on the door and hesitating at first, he opened the door. It was Aunt Peggy.

“Would you mind letting me in?”

Steve shook his head and took a step back, to open the door wide for her. She came in and Steve closed the door after her. She put the lid down on the toilet and sat on it, while Steve stayed standing.

“Sit.”

“Where?”

“On the floor, where else?”

Steve sighed but he complied to her wish. He leaned back on the cupboard under the sink, and bent up his knees. He placed his arms over them and looked at the sleeves of his shirt. They were quiet for some time; Aunt Peggy was waiting for Steve to talk, while Steve didn't want to talk. Which wasn't the truth. Because when it came to her, Steve couldn't keep his mouth shut. So feeling resigned to his fate, he started from the beginning. He started with how they moved back here, and how stressed he had felt while they were moving back here. And then school happened, and then Bucky came along...

He didn't even manage to go through the whole story, before he started to cry in earnest. He seemed incapable of stopping once he started and it scared him.

It scared him so much.

He was hurting and he didn't want to hurt. He knew that the minute he saw Bucky again, he'd be okay. A glance at his direction would straighten his scrambled thoughts out. But he was being realistic. He hadn't seen him in days. He was sure he'd never see him ever again.

“Maybe someday in the future you will,” Aunt Peggy said in a soft voice. Steve hadn't even realized he talked out loud. He covered his mouth with his hand as another wave of tears passed through him. “Steve...”

“I can't... Aunt Pegs, it hurts so much,” sobbed Steve. “We haven't been going out for that long. I don't know why I'm this way. It makes no sense!”

“Sweetheart, there's a time in all our lives, that when we meet certain people, we connect with them in a way that has no explanation. That connection can happen between a week of knowing each other, up to years and years of your lives. Maybe this friend of yours-”

“-Bucky. His name's Bucky.”

“That's a lovely name,” she said with a gentle smile. “Maybe Bucky was that person for you. Maybe he managed to weasel his way in your heart without meaning to. And you let him because, well, why wouldn't you?”

“He just left. He just took off. Why would he do that?”

“I don't know, darling. We can sit here and guess about it for hours and we can never know which one is the true one. So it's better if you take as much time as you need to pull yourself together and heal from this.”

“Will I ever be okay again?” Steve's voice sounded so small, it was shaking him to the core.

“You better,” said aunt Peggy. Her voice sounded light, but she looked serious.

Steve sniffed and nodded. He wiped his nose on the sleeve of his sweater. He sighed and shook his head. “I'm sorry I ruined the dinner.”

“It was already a doomed one,” she replied lightly. “Your father's here.”

“He can go and fuck himself.”

“I don't think he could, given the fact that he's-”

“Okay, okay, no need to get into details there,” Steve said with a chuckle. She smiled at him pleasantly. “You do get why I hate him, right?”

“Oh of course I do. My brother has never been the sharpest tool in the shed. He never understood the good things in life. Even the ones that bit him in the ass.”

“I'm sorry that he is your brother. You're cooler than him,” Steve said shrugging. “I would've been happier if  _you_  were my father.”

“Ah, there's a catch to that isn't it?” she said with a light charming smile. “I don't have the required  _tools_  to be a father.”

Steve laughed at that and shook his head, “No. But I would want you to be my parent. Co-parenting is a thing now.”

“It seems so, yes. I will have a private conversation with your mom regarding this subject at hand.”

“Please do,” he said, and his face was still aching from the grin that he was supporting. But then it vanished just as fast as it came. Leaving him feel tired and upset over this.

He looked up when aunt Peggy touched his arm. She had a small smile gracing her lips and her face was kind. She understood him. Steve took couple of steadying breaths and nodded. She helped him stand up and gave him a tight hug, which he returned. Steve could never get enough of her hugs.

“You ready to face your father?”

Steve sighed and nodded again, and they made their way down. They had finished having dinner and some of them were cleaning up while the others have migrated to the living room for some sit down time and to catch up with each other. Steve's parents were in the office and aunt Peggy led the way in. They were talking to each other in hushed voices and once they came in, his parents stopped talking. Sarah came to him quickly and pulled him into a hug.

“Are you okay?” she asked in a low voice and pulled back to see his face.

“Yeah, mom. I'm okay,” he replied with a smile.

“I'll let you alone,” aunt Peggy said and she left them in the office alone.

Steve turned around to look at his father. He looked older than the last time Steve had seen him. He had graying hair, some wrinkles around his face, but overall, he looked healthy. He leaned back against the wall, not wanting to go in further. Sarah didn't say anything about this, merely patted him on the arm and walked to one of the chairs in the room.

“How have you been, son?” his father asked.

“Fine.”

“School treating you alright?”

“Yeah.”

“Made any friends?”

“Some.”

“Love interests?”

“What do you want?” asked Steve, instead of answering. He really would want to get on with this and go back outside. Or just leave. Socializing with people was starting to get on his nerves.

“I just want to catch up with you?”

“You could've done so without leaving us for some fucking bitch,” Steve said and ignoring his parents outrageous cries, he left the office. He went in search for aunt Peggy to say goodbye before he left. He didn't feel like staying here.

He found her talking to Sharon's parents. Not wanting to intrude on it, or get attention from them, he simply left. He grabbed his jacket from the rails by the door and walked outside.

He came here with his mom, so he didn't have a car. Grabbing his phone from his pocket he dialed Clint's number and asked him to come and pick him up, if he weren't busy. He knew that Clint was gonna go to Sam's place for Thanksgiving, and Sam's family was a delight, as far as he knew. Clint agreed to be there in the next 10 minutes. How Clint was going to achieve that was beyond him, but he didn't question his friend's motives.

Leaning back against his mom's car, he waited for Clint to show up. He heard footsteps behind him, but he didn't need to turn around to see that it was his mom. She leaned on the car, beside him, arms folded over her chest.

“Do you need me to punish you for this?” she asked staring at his profile.

“Didn't he deserve it?” Steve replied with a shrug.

“Deserved it, or not, you aren't supposed to talk to your dad like that,” she said in an offhand tone of voice, that made Steve snort.

“First of all, he isn't my  _dad_. He's my father.”

“What's the difference?”

“A  _dad_ is someone with whom you spend your time with. Like go to sports games together, occasionally throw a ball or something. A  _father_  is someone that only shares the same DNA with you and that's it.”

“Wow you gave this a lot of thought.”

“Not really,” replied Steve with a shrug. “It's pretty obvious if you look at it from my view.”

Sarah just shook her head and sighed. After a moment of silence she asked, “What are you doing out here?”

“I'm waiting for Clint to get me.”

“It's gonna take him about an hour or so to get here.”

“He said ten minutes.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

“Hmm...”

Steve was about to answer but then he heard a car noise and his eyebrows shot up as he saw Clint's car driving up the driveway. He stopped in front of them and rolled down the window.

“Hello,” he said with a smile on his face.

“How did you get here so fast?” Steve asked raising an amused eyebrow.

“I was already on my way here,” Clint shrugged as if it made total sense. “I had a feeling that the dinner was going to be a bust so I thought I'd come and rescue you. And I was right. No disrespect, Mrs. Rogers.”

“None taken,” said Sarah with a laugh. Steve kissed Sarah's cheek and he walked over to the other side to get in the car. Sarah waved at them when they drove off. She had a feeling in her chest that Steve was going to be okay, if he kept his friends close by. It was going to take him a while to get over it, but he could make it. Steve was smart and knew what was what. He just needed a bit of time to get adjusted to things.

She just hoped that it wouldn't take long.

With a sigh, she turned around and went back to the house.

  
  


**TBC...**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look out for the sequel in a few months!
> 
> Comments/kudos are always welcome ^_^

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos are welcome! ^_^


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